


love the way you hurt me

by castielofasgard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A bit of a gothic romance, Addiction, Blood, Blood Drinking, Character Turned Into Vampire, Dark Magic, Established Relationship, Human/Vampire Relationship, Kinks that i really hope don't exist irl, M/M, Mild Gore, Self-Hatred, Smut, Sorta Happy Ending, Violence, i guess some of this could be considered self-harm, is this healthy? who knows!, this is like having rough sex in a motel room to a halsey song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-30 13:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 37,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5165612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielofasgard/pseuds/castielofasgard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on a mission, Pietro gets bitten and transformed into a vampire. Though determined to find a cure, Clint finds himself drawn to this new side of Pietro and their relationship takes a turn down a dark and twisted path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the graveyard

It was a quiet Saturday morning in Avengers Tower. Most of the team was gone for the weekend, either on missions or on much deserved vacations. The only people still at the tower were Pietro, Clint, Steve, and Bucky. So the place certainly felt deserted.

Pietro and Clint were in the living room, sprawled all over the sofa (and each other), trying to put off starting the day’s training as long as possible. Steve and Bucky came in and Bucky tossed a throw pillow at them.

“Good morning, lazies,” he said. “Time to get off your asses.”

“We were just about to go to training, I swear,” said Clint.

“Not training,” said Steve. “A mission.”

“A possible mission,” Bucky corrected.

“How can it be a ‘possible’ mission?” said Pietro.

“Because Steve’s got cabin fever so he’s making us all suffer,” said Bucky.

“It’s not cabin fever, Buck, this is a legitimate thing,” said Steve.

“So what is it?” Clint asked, sitting up.

“There’s been a string of disappearances and mysterious deaths in this little town in Georgia,” said Steve. “All the disappearances have been young, attractive loners, usually between twenty and thirty. But the deaths have been pretty much anyone, and they’re pretty strange. The official reports say animal attacks because they each have the same distinctive bite marks, but I did some, uh... digging...”

“He hacked it. Or, more accurately, I hacked it for him,” Bucky interjected.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Steve continued. “I looked into the morgue records for a few of the victims, and they’re pretty weird. Usually if an animal attacked a person, they’d get pretty mauled up, but these are all just one bite, like a venomous snake.”

“Does Georgia have rattlesnakes? That could be all it is,” said Clint.

“It’s not just the bites, though,” said Steve. “They didn’t die from venom. They died because they were totally drained of blood.”

“Okay, that’s weird,” said Pietro.

“Yeah, it’s weird, but it also sounds like vampires, which don’t exist,” said Clint.

“That’s what I said,” said Bucky.

“But then you also had this really interesting theory,” said Steve. “Tell ‘em.”

“Well, I was thinking maybe they weren’t actually _bites_ ,” Bucky said. “I mean, little puncture holes... yeah, those could _look_ like bites, but they could just be from needles. Somebody could be stealing people’s blood. Some mad doctor or something.”

“That could work,” said Pietro. “But what about the disappearances?”

“That’s why we’ve got a mission,” said Steve. “People are dying and vanishing down there. They need help. Whether it’s an animal, a person, or even a vampire, we’re Avengers and saving people is our job.”

“You’re always gotta pull that card, don’t ya, Cap?” said Clint. “You’re right, of course. But still.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“So are you guys in?” he asked.

“Of course,” said Pietro.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Clint added.

“Good,” said Steve. “Now pack your bags and suit up.”

 

***

 

A few hours later, they landed the quinjet just outside town. Steve led the way into town and to the police station. The woman at the front desk looked up when they entered.

“Hi, I’d like to speak to the officer in charge of the disappearance cases,” Steve said.

“Are you from the next county or something?” the woman asked.

“No, we’re not police,” said Steve. “We’re Avengers.”

The woman stared, her eyes darting between them.

“I didn’t realize this was the kind of case the Avengers would be needed for,” she said.

“It might not be. We just like to be sure. So can we talk to the detective?” said Steve.

“Yes, of course.”

The woman picked up the phone.

“Madison, I’ve got some men at the front with questions about the Saint Peter’s case. No, they’re not reporters.”

She set down the receiver and turned to Steve.

“Detective Madison will be with you in a minute,” she said.

“Thank you,” said Steve.

They didn’t wait long before a tough-looking woman approached them.

“You must be the men Susan here was talking about. I’m Detective Madison,” she said, shaking each of their hands.

“I’m Captain Rogers of the Avengers, and these are a few of my teammates. Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, and Pietro Maximoff,” said Steve. “We’re here to ask you a few things about this recent string of disappearances and deaths you’ve had.”

“Ah yeah, the Saint Peter’s case,” said Detective Madison. “Let’s step into my office.”

She led them down a hall and into her office. They sat down and she closed the door behind them.

“Can I get you boys anything? Coffee? Glass of water?” she offered.

“I’ll take some coffee,” Clint said.

Pietro rolled his eyes. Madison picked up a spare mug and filled it up, then handed it to Clint.

“So, Avengers, eh?” she said, sitting down across the desk from them. “Never thought I’d see the day when anything would happen in this town to draw even a few of you down here.”

“Well, the case seemed fishy, we thought we’d check it out,” said Bucky.

“Fishy’s for damn sure,” Madison said.

“Is there anything you can tell us that didn’t make it into the official reports?” Steve asked. “I mean, it seemed strange enough, but I get the feeling that there’s more to it.”

“There certainly is,” said Madison. “Now, I don’t like lying to the public about what’s going on in these kind of situations, but there’s some things they just shouldn’t know.”

“Like what?” Pietro asked.

“Well, first of all, these aren’t just your regular animal attacks. The victims weren’t torn up or nothing, just bit. Only animals I know of that kill with just a bite are snakes, and these bites weren’t nearly small enough for that,” said Madison. “And that’s not all. When we took the first ones in for examination, I thought we’d find some venom in their bloodstreams. Instead, we found no blood at all.”

“What about the disappearances?” Clint asked. 

“Well, there’s a few things. You probably saw in the reports about the demographics and all that. Pretty young things getting snatched, but only the quiet ones.”

“Yeah, we did,” said Bucky.

“That part’s a bit less weird, pretty people get kidnapped every day,” said Madison. “The strange part is, the last place all these kids were seen was at Saint Peter’s Cemetery on the edge of town. That’s weird enough to begin with, but it gets weirder. Saint Peter’s is also the place where every one of the bodies have been found.”

“The people that were kidnapped, did any of them turn up dead later?” Steve asked.

“Nope. They just vanished without a trace.”

“Is there anything else? Any clues, strange things people have mentioned seeing around the cemetery?” Bucky asked.

“Well, there was one thing,” said Madison. “A couple nights ago, when the most recent girl went missing, an old man reported hearing screams coming from the cemetery while he was out walking his dog. He said it sounded like someone was getting tortured. But by the time we arrived on the scene, there was nothing, no sign of anybody. Next morning, the girl’s parents call in saying she’s gone.”

“Would you mind if we took a look around the crime scene tonight?” Steve asked. 

“Mind? Oh god, no, go on ahead,” Madison said. “Don’t let it out, but we need all the help we can get on this case. We’re baffled.”

“Thank you, Detective, you’ve been a lot of help,” said Steve.

He got to his feet and shook her hand.

“My pleasure, Captain,” said Madison. “Thanks for taking an interest in our case.”

“Thanks for the coffee, ma’am,” Clint said, setting his empty mug on the desk.

“Oh, of course. There’s plenty more where that came from, so if you wanna swing by to warm up after your investigation, you’re more than welcome,” said Madison.

They all shook her hand again, then left the station.

“Was she hitting on you?” Pietro said once they were outside.

“Of course not, she was just inviting me to have coffee with her. At night. Alone. Good God, she was hitting on me,” said Clint.

“Focus, birdbrain,” said Bucky.

“Heyy....”

“So, this makes things interesting, doesn’t it?” said Steve.

“It wasn’t interesting before?” Pietro said.

“You know what I mean, don’t be a smart ass,” said Steve. “ _Anyway_ , people screaming like they’re getting tortured, a cemetery.... I don’t like it.”

“And yet we’re gonna go waltzing into the creepy cemetery of doom, _at night_ , to find the maniac who’s doing it,” said Pietro.

“Oh yay, we’re officially in a horror movie,” said Clint. “Just what I always wanted.”

 

***

 

When night fell, they walked to Saint Peter’s cemetery, armed with a flashlight and a gun each. They stopped at the gates, staring down the path at the eery rows of headstones.

“What I said before about this being like a horror movie?” said Clint. “I was a little too right. This is creepy as fuck.”

“Yeah, this place just has the word ‘death’ written all over it,” Pietro said.

“Of course it does, it’s a cemetery. It’s literally full of dead people,” said Steve.

“You know what, Rogers?”

Steve smirked.

“Sooo,” said Bucky. “Who wants to go into the creepy graveyard first?”

“We all go in on three?” Clint suggested.

“Sounds good. One, two, three.”

They all took a single step through the gates. They were now officially inside the cemetery.

“Some superheroes we are, having to psych ourselves up to go into a graveyard,” said Pietro.

“In our defense, it’s very scary,” said Clint.

“Alright, let’s fan out,” said Steve. “Bucky and I will go to the right, you guys go to the left. We’ll meet back here in an hour.”

They split up, following Steve’s orders. Pietro and Clint wandered among the headstones, careful to keep each other nearby. After a while, Pietro came across a crypt with a wrought iron gate barring the entrance. He stopped and turned to get Clint’s attention, but Clint was nowhere in sight. He looked around anxiously for some sign of him until finally his fear got the better of him.

“Clint?” he called, knowing full well that if there really was somebody out there, this probably wasn’t the time for shouting. “Clint, where are you?”

There was no answer. Just silence and the sounds of the night. Pietro sighed in frustration.

“This is really not going well,” he muttered.

He paused to shine his flashlight through the grating of the crypt, then rounded the corner. Suddenly he froze, heart hammering. He could swear he just saw something move in the shadows. He peered into the darkness, aiming his flashlight at headstones and bushes, searching for a silhouette and hoping for a raccoon. He froze again as the beam of light fell upon something that was creating a very human shadow. 

“Clint?” he said nervously.

Then suddenly, the shadow pounced. A cold hand wrapped around his throat and slammed him against the mausoleum wall and Pietro found himself face to face with a pale young man with blood-red eyes. He struggled, but the man was unnaturally strong and seemed to hold him against the wall with little effort.

“Yes, you’ll do nicely,” he said.

There was something about the man’s voice that sent a terrified chill up Pietro’s spine. He continued to struggle pointlessly as the man grabbed a handful of his hair and slowly shifted the hand around Pietro’s throat down to his chest. He smiled sinisterly, showing strangely sharp teeth, then lunged forward and sank his teeth into Pietro’s neck. Pietro cried out in both fear and pain. The man let go, blood staining his lips, then ran off into the night. Pietro’s head was spinning. His knees gave out and he slowly sank to the ground, his back still pressed against the stone wall.

“Pietro!?”

He looked up and saw Clint running toward him. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Clint gasped, dropping to his knees next to him. “What happened?”

“Clint, I saw him, I know what he is, he-”

Pietro stopped mid-sentence as an unexpected wave of pain ripped through him. 

“Pietro?” Clint said.

Everything was burning. His blood was on fire and his veins were ice and his entire body was screaming. He might have been screaming too, but he couldn’t tell. The pain was so all-consuming, he had lost all sense of his surroundings. He had been plunged into a nightmare. Into hell. He was dead and this was hell, that was the only explanation for this agony. It grew and grew until he was sure couldn’t take anymore.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it all stopped and the world came crashing back down around him. His chest was heaving, but he didn’t seem to need the air he was breathing. All the sounds of the night seemed twenty times louder than before. And there was a strangely intoxicating scent on the air that he hadn’t noticed before. He opened his eyes. Everything seemed sharper than usual and the darkness wasn’t quite as impenetrable as before. Clint was still kneeling next to him, eyes wide and face pale with fear. 

“Holy shit, you scared the living daylights out of me,” he said, sighing in relief. “What the fuck just happened?”

“I... I don’t know...” said Pietro. 

He turned to look at Clint, and Clint froze, looking confused and more than a little scared.

“What?”

“Y-your eyes,” said Clint quietly. “They’re... red. And I don’t mean bloodshot, I mean... _red_. Like, the part that was blue... it’s not anymore.”

“Oh my god,” Pietro said.

The whole situation was starting to make sense. Horrible, terrifying sense. 

“Pietro, you said you saw someone, that you knew what he is,” said Clint. “What did he do to you?”

“He bit me,” said Pietro.

“He... bit you?” Clint repeated.

“Yeah...”

Pietro was feeling dizzy again, but not in the disorienting way he had been before. It was more of an intoxicated dizziness, and he was certain it was because of that smell he had first noticed when he woke up. It was rugged but sweet, and there was an oddly metallic hint to it that he couldn’t quite place.

“Pietro?” Clint said. “You still with me?”

He hadn’t even been aware that he’d spaced out. He stared at Clint, at those concerned grey eyes, that furrowed brow, and realized suddenly that he could hear his heart beating. Something feral inside him reared its head at the sound, and the entrancing scent seemed to grow stronger. Then it clicked. _He could smell Clint’s blood._

“Oh my god,” he said again, starting to panic.

Clint reached out and took his hand to comfort him, then looked even more concerned than before.

“Your hand is freezing,” he said.

“Clint,” Pietro said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I think that man is a vampire.”

“No,” said Clint. “No, he couldn’t be. Vampires don’t exist, they’re fantasy, they...”

He trailed off, staring at Pietro, who could hear just how fast his heart was beating. 

“Clint, I think... when he bit me...” said Pietro. “I think I turned into a vampire too.”

“No. No no no, you can’t be, you can’t, it’s not real...”

“I can hear your heartbeat,” said Pietro. “I can smell your blood.”

“No, stop. Stop this,” said Clint, his grip on Pietro’s hand now painfully tight. “You’re scaring me, Pietro. That can’t be what’s happening. It’s... it’s some sort of drug, he drugged you...”

“Steve and Bucky are coming,” Pietro announced.

He could hear their approaching footsteps, smell their distinctive scents on the air. They were different from Clint’s, not nearly as intoxicating, but still tantalizing and sweet with that coppery tint. A few seconds later, Steve and Bucky appeared.

“Christ, what happened to you, Maximoff?” Bucky said. “You’re white as a sheet.”

“The guy found him, he drugged him,” said Clint.

He looked flustered, lost, grasping at his tiny strand of hope.

“I haven’t been drugged,” said Pietro impatiently. “The guy’s a vampire. He bit me.”

“A _vampire_?” said Steve.

“Whoa whoa whoa, hold up, did you just say you got _bit_ by a _vampire_?” Bucky said.

Pietro nodded. He cast a glance at Clint, who looked a little like he might pass out. 

“Shit...” Bucky murmured, running a hand through his hair. 

“We need to get home,” said Clint suddenly. “Maybe there’s some way we can fix this.”

“Clint, I think it’s kinda permanent,” said Pietro.

He felt sick even as he said it. He was stuck like this forever. And not just the hyperbolic forever. Actual eternity.

“You don’t know that,” Clint said. “None of us do. We’ll do research. We’ll call Thor, maybe he knows something, he knows things about stuff like this. We’re gotta try. I can’t just let this happen to you. I can’t just let you become a-”

He stopped short, but Pietro knew exactly what he was about to say.

“What, a monster?” he finished. He got to his feet. “Come on. You’re right. We should go home.”

 


	2. vampires are real

 

They returned to the quinjet and Steve and Bucky went to the cockpit, leaving Pietro and Clint alone in the cabin. For the first hour of the flight, they were silent. Then Clint cleared his throat.

“Um, I uh... I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at his hands. “For acting how I did. It wasn’t fair, you’re probably freaking out even more than I am, and it was selfish of me to act like I did. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Pietro said. “And I really can’t blame you for freaking out. You’re right, I’m pretty scared right now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be too.”

“I know. Still doesn’t mean I reacted well.”

“Like I said, I don’t blame you.”

There was a moment of silence before Clint spoke up again.

“Things are gonna be different now... I mean... technically, I’m food to you, so that could make things interesting.... and then....”

He trailed off, avoiding meeting Pietro’s eye.

“What?” Pietro asked, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re immortal now,” Clint said. “You’re not gonna age, and unless you get killed, you’re not gonna die. But I am. I’m gonna get old and die and leave you alone. We won’t grow old together. So... if you want to leave me now and save yourself the pain... I’ll understand.”

Pietro reached out and took his hand. He felt Clint flinch slightly at the coldness of his skin, but he didn’t pull away.

“I’m not gonna leave you, Clint. Sharing a lifetime with you while I can would be worth an eternity of heartbreak,” he said softly.

Clint looked up at him and smiled, though his eyes were still sad.

“Thank you,” he said.

He leaned in and kissed him. Pietro closed his eyes and kissed back, Clint’s scent washing over him stronger and more irresistible than ever. He pulled away and took a deep breath to steady his spinning head.

“Are you okay?” Clint asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just... god, this is awkward... I’m... well, I’m thirsty.”

Pietro grimaced apologetically and watched Clint for a reaction. 

“Oh,” Clint said. “Well... that’s... okay then, um... I really don’t know what to do about that.”

“It’s okay, I can probably make it until we get home,” said Pietro. “But, well... we might want to keep a little bit of distance ‘til then. I don’t want to hurt you by accident, and well... for some reason your blood is more tempting to me than Steve’s or Bucky’s...”

“It is?”

“Yeah... well, ‘tempting’ is putting it lightly.”

“That’s... weird,” said Clint. “And slightly worrying. Should I be worried?”

“Maybe.”

“Do you think it has anything to do with the fact that we’re a couple? That you’re attracted to me?” Clint asked.

“It might,” said Pietro. “The temptation got stronger when we kissed, so... I’d guess yes.”

“Okay. Distance it is, then,” said Clint. 

They fell silent for the rest of the flight, still holding hands but not daring to do more.

 

It was early morning when they arrived back at the tower. Pietro was nauseous with hunger and he could tell it was only a matter of time before he snapped. They went inside and found Tony and Pepper in the kitchen making breakfast. Clint sat Pietro down on a sofa and ran off to get blood bags from Doctor Cho’s lab.

“We weren’t expecting you two to be home yet,” said Steve.

“I could say the same about you,” said Tony. “When I got your message saying you guys were on a mission, I figured you’d be gone a few days at least, not hours.”

“Yeah, well, there was a... complication...”

“What kind of complication? And what’s wrong with Maximoff?”

“I’m a vampire,” Pietro said wearily.

“Okay, so the kid’s lost his mind, that’s definitely a complication,” said Tony.

“No, he’s telling the truth,” said Bucky. “He’s actually a vampire.”

“Seriously?” said Pepper.

“What the hell kind of mission was this?” Tony asked.

Just then, Clint ran back into the kitchen. He grabbed a mug and tore open the blood bag, pouring the contents into the mug.

“That’s disgusting, Barton,” said Bucky.

“I’ll sanitize it later,” said Clint impatiently.

He paused a moment, staring at the mug, then opened a cabinet, grabbed a straw, and stuck it in the mug. Then he hurried into the living room.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” he said.

“Oh thank God,” said Pietro, taking the mug from him. “What’s with the straw?”

“To make you pace yourself,” said Clint. “Also ‘cause I figured it would creep people out if you got blood in your mustache.”

Pietro chuckled, but the smile was short lived. He stared at the mug in his hands but didn’t take a drink, though he felt faint from hunger.

“What’s wrong?” Clint asked, sitting next to him.

“Just... this is about to become real. Very real,” Pietro said. “The last couple hours, I’ve just been saying it in my head, telling myself what I am now... and now... the second I drink this, it’s real.”

Clint sighed.

“Yeah, well, starvation doesn’t wait for existential crises, honey, so drink up.”

Pietro hesitated, then took a sip. The effect was instantaneous. The moment he swallowed he began to feel better. He took a few more sips, then forced himself to stop. Clint was right, he had to pace himself. Steve and Bucky came and joined them in the living room and sat down on the couch opposite. Steve set a laptop on his knees and opened it up.

“Okay, you asked for cures, let’s find a cure,” he said.

“You really think you can just Google ‘vampire cures’ and expect to find something?” Pepper said, coming out of the kitchen and sitting at the table.

“If I try hard enough,” said Steve.

“I hope you won’t be too offended if we don’t join you in there for breakfast,” said Tony as he joined Pepper at the kitchen table.

“Not at all, I am fully aware of how gross this is,” said Pietro.

“You’re not gross, Pietro...” Clint protested.

“I’m drinking blood, Clint. That’s pretty disgusting by human standards.”

“He’s not wrong,” said Bucky.

“Whatever.”

“So are you guys ever gonna tell us what has led to Maximoff drinking blood out of a Disney Princess mug?” Tony asked.

“Steve had cabin fever so he dragged us to a hick town where people were going missing in a creepy-ass graveyard,” said Bucky. “Those two idiots didn’t abide by the ‘stick together’ rule, creepy vampire guy jumps Pietro, Pietro gets bit.”

“Short. Concise. Insulting. All the things I look for in a mission briefing,” said Tony. 

“What can I say, I’m efficient,” Bucky said.

“I think I may have found something,” said Steve. “Or at least the possibility of something.”

“What did you find?” Pietro asked.

“There’s this website with a bunch of lore on supposedly mythical creatures that aren’t actually all that mythical,” said Steve. 

“No fucking way, you’re telling me werewolves are real too?” Bucky said, reading over Steve’s shoulder.

“Apparently. Anyway, there’s a _lot_ of information on vampires, so if there’s a cure, I bet this site’s got it,” said Steve.

They all fell silent for a little while, Steve and Bucky scrolling through the website, Tony and Pepper eating breakfast, Pietro sipping at his mug of blood, and Clint watching him with a concerned frown.

“Stop scrolling, look,” said Bucky suddenly, pointing at the computer screen.

“Is it a cure?” Clint asked.

“Yes it is,” said Steve. “Aaand that’s not gonna work.”

“What, why not?” said Pietro.

“Because this cure only works if you’ve never fed,” said Steve. “It’s not the only cure though.”

“There are others?”

“Yeah, but they aren’t pleasant,” Steve said. “Shit, that’s terrible. We’re not doing that one ever.”

“Do I want to know?” Pietro asked.

“No. Not at all,” said Bucky adamantly.

“Is there _anything_ on this list that doesn’t require us to torture you?” Steve muttered.

“Torture?” Clint echoed, eyes wide.

“Oh hey, that one’s a little tamer,” said Bucky, pointing at the screen again.

“Yeah... barely. We’d still have to tie him to a crucifix for forty eight hours while doing a bunch of sick rituals,” said Steve.

“Do you think a crucifix would even work on a Jewish vampire?” Pietro said.

“You know... I have no idea,” said Clint.

“You seem to be taking this whole thing rather well, Pietro,” said Pepper.

“The humor’s just a coping mechanism. I’m actually freaking out,” said Pietro.

“I think we’re gonna have to wait to try and cure this until I’ve done some more research,” said Steve. “Literally all of these involve some form of witchcraft, which I know nothing about, so I have no idea which ones are actually not horrific. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” said Pietro. “I can be patient.”

“Ha, no you can’t,” Clint scoffed.

Pietro rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean,” he said. “I can wait. I’ve learned to live with strange things happening to me before. I can do it again.”

 


	3. the hunt

 

The day went by slowly and uneventfully. Steve and Bucky hadn’t budged from the living room since morning, only moving to get more food or coffee. They had decided to start researching right away and were both totally engrossed, delving into the deepest, sketchiest parts of the internet and making several notepads worth of lists and notes. 

Clint, on the other hand, spent the whole day with Pietro. He wanted to keep an eye on him, to make sure he was coping alright. He also found himself constantly trying to keep Pietro out of rooms that got a lot of sunlight, which wasn’t easy.

“Why did Stark have to design this place with so many damn windows and so few damn curtains?” Clint complained.

They finally ended up in their bedroom with the curtains closed, where they stayed until sundown. 

 

By the time night arrived and they were able to go back out to the rest of the tower, Pietro was hungry again. He sat across from Clint at the kitchen table, watching him eat leftover pizza with a look on his face like a stray puppy. Finally, Clint couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, we’ve got to figure out what to do about this, because I just feel bad eating in front of you when you literally cannot eat this food and you’re obviously starving and Doctor Cho’s gonna give me an earful when she gets back if I keep giving you her blood samples,” he said.

“What am I gonna do then?” said Pietro. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“Some vampires hunt animals for their blood so they don’t have to hunt humans,” Bucky piped up from the sofa. “It’s pretty much their version of vegetarianism.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to find animals in Manhattan that aren’t stray dogs?” Pietro said.

“Yeah, nobody’s eating any dogs,” said Clint.

“Way ahead of you,” said Steve, holding up a slip of paper. “Here’s directions to a little forest I found a few miles outside the city. It’s not much and it’s kind of a long drive, but it’s better than starving.”

Pietro darted over to Steve, took the piece of paper, and was back in his seat in the time it took Clint to take another bite of pizza. 

“I don’t know if I should go out there alone,” Pietro said, looking down at the paper in his hands. “I’m not sure I trust myself yet. I don’t want to hurt someone along the way because I got impatient and they looked more appetizing than a deer.”

“I can go with you,” Clint offered. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You may not trust you, but I do. And I can always stay in the car if I get distracting.”

“Okay,” said Pietro. “Finish your dinner, then we’ll go get mine.”

 

Nearly two hours later, Clint parked the car on the edge of the woods. Steve had been right, it wasn’t much of a forest, mostly a large grove of trees, but there was bound to be something alive in there. He and Pietro got out of the car and walked into the woods. Pietro could see pretty well in the dark, but Clint couldn’t and he hadn’t brought a flashlight, so Pietro found him a fallen log to sit on before running off into the trees.

Clint sat quietly on his log, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark until he could see fairly well even without a light. After a while, Pietro returned empty handed. Clint stood up and squinted at his watch – he had been gone about forty minutes. 

“No luck?” he asked.

“None.”

“Damn....”

“This is pointless,” Pietro complained. “There’s nothing out here. Just a bunch of squirrels and like half of them have rabies and this just isn’t working out. I’m gonna starve to death. This is pathetic. I’m a horrible vampire.”

“C’mon babe, don’t be so dramatic,” said Clint. “You’re not gonna starve. Are there really only squirrels out here?”

“And birds. But those are even less helpful.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean...”

Clint frowned, thinking. He had an idea, but he was sure Pietro would shoot it down. He wasn’t even that sure about it himself. But Pietro had to eat, and this was all he had.

“I’ll feed you,” he said.

“What?!” Pietro exclaimed. “Are you mad? I could _kill_ you!”

“I’ll make sure you don’t go too far,” said Clint. “I trust you. I _want_ to do this.”

Pietro stared at him uncertainly. Clint could tell how much he wanted to say yes, but he could also see how scared he was of losing control.

“Are you sure?” Pietro asked.

“Would I offer if I wasn’t?”

“Okay. Let’s do this. And please, stop me the second I’ve gone far enough.”

“I will,” Clint promised.

He rolled up his right sleeve, pulled out a pocket knife, and flipped it open. He sat down against the log, preferring not to collapse by accident, and took a deep breath. Then he pressed the blade to his forearm and carved a cut into his skin. Blood seeped to the surface immediately. Clint looked up at Pietro; even in the dark he could see that his pupils had dilated, and it seemed to be taking all his willpower not to pounce right then.

“Okay. Go ahead,” Clint said.

Pietro knelt down next to him and took his arm in his hands. He glanced up at Clint, thenbrought Clint’s arm to his mouth and began to drink. It was a strange sensation, dizzying, but not altogether unpleasant. Clint leaned his head back against the log and watched as Pietro licked and sucked at the bleeding wound, his eyes closed. He looked both terrifying and beautiful like this, like a storm on the sea. Wild and unpredictable and formidable, an angel of death.

Sooner than expected, Clint’s head began to spin. He reached out with his left hand and tangled his fingers in Pietro’s hair, gently pulling him away.

“Time’s up, sweetheart,” he said.

Pietro sat up breathlessly and wiped a trickle of blood from his lips with the back of his hand.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, just a little dizzy. You?” Clint replied.

“I’d probably freak you out if I went into detail about how I’m feeling,” said Pietro.

Clint chuckled.

“I taste that good, eh?”

“Even better than I imagined.”

“You’ve been imagining how I’d taste?”

“Well, the smell of your blood’s been taunting me all day, so it was kind of hard to avoid.”

“Fair enough,” Clint said. “We should probably head back. Help me up, will ya?”

Pietro stood up and took Clint’s hand, pulling him to his feet. Clint felt suddenly dizzy and weak at the knees. He swayed on the spot and grabbed Pietro to keep himself upright. Pietro caught him as he stumbled into his chest.

“Whoa, Clint, are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” said Clint. “I think I just let you take a bit more than I should have.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Naw, it’s not your fault. I should’ve stopped you sooner.”

“Why didn’t you?” said Pietro.

“To tell the truth, I was kind of enjoying it,” Clint admitted.

“Okay... that’s kinda kinky...” Pietro teased.

“Oh shut up,” said Clint, blushing a little. “Let’s just get to the car and bandage my arm so I don’t lose anymore blood.”

They made their way out of the woods and back to the car. Pietro opened up the passenger door and sat Clint down, then went and got the first aid kit from the trunk. He cleaned the wound and bandaged it, though Clint could see his hands shaking with the effort to keep his thirst under control. When he finished, he pulled Clint’s sleeve down over the bandage and kissed his hand.

“Thanks,” Clint said.

“It’s no trouble,” said Pietro. “It’s the least I could do.”

“We can’t tell any of the others about this,” said Clint. “They’d freak.”

“I know. It’ll be our little secret.”

“It’s a pretty big little secret.”

“They don’t need to know these woods have nothing but rabid squirrels,” said Pietro.

“Good point.”

Clint leaned in and kissed Pietro. He could still taste the slightly metallic tint of blood on his lips. Pietro pulled away first, clearly still afraid of losing control.

“I’ll drive,” he said.

Then he got to his feet, walked around the car to the driver’s side, and got in.

 

By the time they got home, the others had already gone to bed. They went to their bedroom, but Pietro stopped outside the door. 

“Something wrong?” Clint asked.

“Well... vampires don’t sleep,” said Pietro.

“....Oh.”

“So... I guess this is good night, then.”

“Good night.”

Clint kissed his cheek, then turned to go into their room. But he stopped, his hand on the doorknob, and sighed. He turned back around to find Pietro still standing there, looking sad.

“You know, just ‘cause you don’t sleep doesn’t mean you have to spend the whole night wandering the tower all alone,” he said. 

“No, Clint, you need to sleep. Don’t stay up with me. I’ll be fine,” Pietro protested.

“That’s not what I was saying, dumbass, lemme finish,” said Clint. 

“Sorry. Go on.”

“Stay with me.”

“But I don’t-”

“I know,” said Clint. “Just... stay with me. Please.”

Pietro hesitated, staring at Clint.

“Okay,” he said at last.

They went inside and Clint closed the door. They got changed in silence, then Clint climbed under the covers. Pietro stood at the foot of the bed, looking lost.

“What’re you waiting for, come to bed,” said Clint, patting the mattress next to him.

Pietro looked like he was about to protest again, but thought better of it. He joined Clint in bed, but just sat there awkwardly. Clint sighed and scooted a few inches closer.

“Pietro?” he said softly.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I know,” said Pietro. “I love you too.”

“I meant what I said before. I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Okay, maybe not. But I still trust you not to.”

Pietro didn’t answer.

“Pietro?”

“Hmm?”

“Hold me.”

“Clint-”

“Please.”

“...Okay.”

Pietro moved a bit closer and Clint curled up against his chest and closed his eyes, sighing contentedly at the familiar feeling of Pietro’s arms around him. He rested his head over Pietro’s heart and was surprised to hear it still beating – for some reason he had expected it to have stopped, but it kept diligently marching on and Clint was glad. 

 


	4. slaves to any semblance of touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Sedated" by Hozier

 

Pietro spent the whole night just holding Clint in his arms, watching him sleep. At first he had been scared, worried that being so close would tempt him too much, especially now that he had tasted Clint’s blood. But after a while, he relaxed. Being close to Clint was as easy as it had ever been, and he started to trust himself just a little bit more. 

And watching Clint sleep was so calming. He looked so peaceful and beautiful, and almost fragile now that Pietro was so deadly. Pietro could kill him with as little effort as breathing, yet Clint had put himself at his mercy, had made himself completely vulnerable, all because he trusted him. A little too much, Pietro couldn’t help thinking. 

Even if Clint did trust him more than he should, Pietro also couldn’t help but be grateful for it. The others barely trusted him, he could sense it, he could hear their heartbeats speed up ever so slightly around him. He didn’t blame them. How could he? He knew how dangerous he was now. But knowing Clint still trusted him as much as he ever did... it was a comfort. It let him know that not everything had changed. It reminded him that even though he was different now, he was still Pietro.

At last morning came and Clint awoke, looking up at Pietro almost as if he was surprised to still find him there. Pietro smiled at him.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked.

“Like a rock,” Clint replied. “How was your night?”

“It was nice,” said Pietro. “I liked watching you sleep. You looked so peaceful... it was beautiful.”

“Somehow you made that sound both creepy and sappy,” said Clint.

“Must be a vampire thing,” Pietro joked.

“I can’t believe I’ve become the star of gay-superhero-Twilight.”

Pietro laughed.

“Come on, Bella, time to get up,” he teased.

“How do you know the character’s name?” Clint asked, looking more than a little concerned.

“Sam and I watched it when we were drunk once.”

Clint rolled his eyes and they got out of bed. They showered and got dressed, then went out to the kitchen. Steve and Bucky had already reassumed their positions in the living room and were now joined by Pepper. They had apparently gotten up early and gone shopping because they were surrounded by stacks and stacks of dusty old books. Pietro went and joined them in the living room while Clint stayed in the kitchen to get his breakfast.

“Good morning, nerds,” he said, tossing himself casually onto the couch. “How’s the research going?”

“Not much luck yet,” said Steve. “This stuff is confusing as hell.”

“We’re gonna have to wait until Nat gets back for some of it,” Bucky added. “Lots of these books are in Latin and she’s the only one on the team who knows Latin.”

“Well yeah, it’s a dead language, who needs to know dead languages?” said Pietro.

“Witches, apparently,” said Pepper.

“Oh hey, this one’s not Latin,” said Steve, opening up a new book. “It’s not English either. I don’t know what the fuck it is.”

“Which means that’s probably the book you need most,” said Clint, sitting next to Pietro with a bowl of cereal.

“Lemme see it, I know more languages than you,” Bucky said.

Steve handed him the book and Bucky frowned at it, flipping through a few pages to look for a word he recognized.

“Yeah, I have no idea what that is,” he said, giving the book back to Steve.

“Fantastic,” Steve said. “Oh Pietro, how’d the hunt go? Any luck?”

“Yeah, it was fine,” said Pietro, glancing quickly at Clint. “There’s not a lot out there, but it’ll do.”

“Good. At least you won’t starve to death while we try and decipher all of this.”

Pietro looked over at Clint again, who smiled back. Pietro returned the smile, but only halfway. Lying to Steve about this was easy enough, but he knew not all the team would be so easy to lie to. 

 

***

 

Wanda, Natasha, and Sam returned from their mission that afternoon. Pietro had been dreading having to tell Wanda what had happened because he knew she’d freak out and get all worried about him. They had already come upstairs from the garage and were talking with the others when he and Clint came to greet them. Pietro could hear Wanda’s concerned voice down the hall as they approached the living room.

“What do you mean something happened to Pietro? Is he hurt?”

“No, he’s fine, he just... he’s different now,” said Bucky. “I just thought you should be prepared, so you don’t freak out in front of him.”

“Too late,” Pietro said, coming into the room with Clint on his heels.

“Pietro!” Wanda said, hurrying over to him. “What happened? What’s Bucky talking about?”

She froze about a foot from him, staring.

“Your eyes...”

“Freaky, right?” said Pietro, smirking a little.

“What happened? You’re so pale...” said Wanda.

“Well, uh... I’m a vampire.”

Wanda didn’t respond. She just stared at him, eyes wide.

“Come again?” Sam said, turning to Steve as if to make sure he’d heard correctly.

“We went on a kind of impromptu mission over the weekend,” Steve explained. “And, well, things didn’t go so well.”

“Oh really? I’d never have guessed, seeing as one of our teammates returned from said mission as a freaking vampire,” said Natasha.

Pietro wasn’t paying the others much attention. He was watching Wanda, waiting for her to have some sort of reaction other than stunned silence.

“Please say something,” he said. “I don’t care what. Just... something.”

“How did it happen?” Wanda said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“We were investigating and Clint and I got separated... the vampire attacked me and... well, I won’t go into details.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh Pietro, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not so bad,” Pietro shrugged. “As long as I’m not hungry, I feel almost normal.”

“Almost?” Wanda echoed.

“Yeah. Definite emphasis on that ‘almost’. But don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Pietro said.

“Is that supposed to be comforting?” Wanda said. “Because I know you, Pietro.”

“Okay, you’ve got a point. I’m generally a mess. But I mean it. I’m okay.”

Wanda smiled a little and took the last few steps toward him, hesitating a second before wrapping her arms around him. Pietro pulled her close and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

 

***

 

Pietro was hungry again by the time the sun began to go down and he wasn’t happy about it.

“I literally just ate last night,” he complained, sitting at the table while Clint ate leftover pizza once again.

“Hey, humans get hungry multiple times in the same day, in case you’ve forgotten already,” Clint pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s a lot easier eating as a human,” said Pietro. “You just go to the fridge and grab something. I’ve got to go to the woods and kill something. I thought vampires were supposed to be able to go maybe a couple days between meals...”

“They are,” said Bucky, who was in the kitchen getting a glass of water. “This is just a newborn thing. Your appetite will become more regular later on, but for maybe the first week it’ll be unpredictable and frequent.”

“I’m so glad _someone_ can tell me what’s going on with me, since I know absolutely nothing,” said Pietro.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, I’ll take you back out again once it’s dark,” said Clint.

“Thanks.”

 

An hour later, they got into Clint’s car and drove until they found a deserted parking lot. Clint pulled into the most tucked away space in the lot and turned off the car.

“No point in going all the way out of town,” he said, hopping into the backseat.

Pietro followed him and waited as Clint settled himself on the bench seat and pulled out his knife.

“Are you sure you want to do this again?” Pietro asked.

“Of course,” said Clint. 

He rolled up his sleeve and carved a new cut along his forearm, just a few inches from the first one. The scent of his freshly shed blood washed over Pietro and sent his senses reeling. Clint set aside the knife and turned to him.

“Ready,” he said.

Pietro leaned in and kissed him before taking Clint’s arm in his hands. He licked away a stray drop of blood, then closed his mouth over the wound and began to drink. He was sure that he would never get used to this feeling, to how intoxicatingly wonderful Clint tasted. He would have kept drinking forever, but he knew that he couldn’t, and all too soon he felt Clint’s hand in his hair, gently pulling him back. He sat up, licking his lips, and looked at Clint.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “I didn’t take too much again, did I?”

“No, I’m fine,” said Clint.

He pulled the first aid kit from under the seat. Pietro took it from him and got out the bandages, then cleaned and wrapped up Clint’s arm. 

“Thanks,” Clint said, pulling his sleeve back down.

Pietro smiled at him and slid the first aid kit back under the seat. He was about to sit back up when Clint grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. Pietro kissed him back, but unlike all the other times, he wasn’t afraid of what he’d do if he kissed Clint for too long. He wrapped his arms around Clint and pulled him close, moaning softly into his lips as Clint tangled his fingers in his messy hair. 

They finally broke breathlessly apart, gazing at each other with dazed eyes that shone glassily in the light of the streetlamps. Then they climbed back into the front seat without a word and drove home.

 


	5. fear won't stop me

 

When they got up the next morning, Bruce and Doctor Cho had returned from Seoul, where they had been doing some work at Helen’s lab. Bruce was in the living room with the others, but Helen had gone to unpack. Natasha had been press-ganged onto Steve and Bucky’s research crew and was already working on translating the Latin texts.

“Seriously, guys? It’s only eight in the morning and you’re already reading your creepy witch books?” Clint said, pouring himself some coffee.

“Don’t look at me, I just got here,” said Bucky. “These two maniacs have been at it since six, though.”

“You have seven huge books for me to translate, I wanted to get an early start,” said Natasha.

“And I always get up early, you know that,” Steve added.

“So why exactly do you have these books again?” Bruce asked.

“Seriously? You haven’t told him? Why do _I_ have to be the one to tell everybody?” Pietro complained.

“Because you’re the one with the condition,” Tony said.

“Oh, it’s a condition now?” Pietro said.

“Stark, I am not to be held responsible if my boyfriend eats you,” said Clint.

“Wait, what? Eats him? What the hell is going on?” Bruce said, looking alarmed.

“I’m a vampire,” said Pietro.

“You’re a what?!”

“A vampire. You know, blood sucking creature of the night.”

“I know what a vampire is,” said Bruce. “But they’re not supposed to exist. They’re a myth.”

“Well, you were myth-taken,” said Clint, earning several groans.

“But seriously, how is that even possible?” Bruce said.

“You turn into a giant green monster when you’re angry, but you can’t believe vampires are real even when one’s standing right in front of you?” said Tony. “Honestly, Brucie...”

Bruce rolled his eyes and ignored him.

“So you’re really a vampire?” he said.

“Yup. Fangs and all.”

“Damn,” said Bruce. “I leave the country for one week...”

“If it’s any consolation, I can fuck up several times in less than a second, so it could be much worse,” said Pietro.

“No offense, babe,” said Clint. “But that is the complete opposite of consoling.”

 

***

 

The rest of the day was once again uneventful and it was starting to drive Pietro crazy. Having to stay cooped up inside all day so he wouldn’t spontaneously combust (or whatever unpleasant thing it was that the sun would do to him) was proving to be torture, and it had only been a few days. He was stuck in his room yet again, hiding from the sunlight that streamed through the tower’s plethora of windows, lying on his back on the bed and staring at the ceiling while Clint played with his hair.

“I can’t handle this anymore,” he said. “You know I can’t stay in one place for so long. I need to _do_ something, but the god damn sun is always out.”

“Tell you what,” said Clint. “Tonight we’re gonna have some fun. Okay?”

“What kind of fun?”

“Well, I figured I’d let you decide. But.... I did have one idea, if you think you’re up to it.”

Pietro looked up at him and saw that he was blushing.

“What’s your idea?” he asked.

“Well... do you think you’ll need to feed again tonight?” 

“Probably.”

“Well, I, um.... I was wondering if... if you wanted to find a motel room and after that, we could... you know... have sex,” said Clint bashfully.

Pietro sat up and turned to face him.

“Why are you being so shy about this? It’s not like we haven’t had sex before,” he said.

“Because... you’re a vampire now,” said Clint. “You’re all strong and powerful and I’m just... human. A fragile, breakable human. It’s not that I’m worried you’d hurt me, I trust you not to, it’s just... I’m worried that _you’re_ worried you’d hurt me. If that makes any sense.”

“It does make sense. And now you bring it up, I have thought about that,” Pietro admitted. “I haven’t had a chance to test my own strength. I don’t know how powerful I really am now. I never realized how fragile mortality was, even with everything I’ve been through, but I look at you sleeping against my chest or holding out your bleeding arm for me to drink, and... I see how easy it would be for me to break you.”

“I take that as a no, then,” Clint said.

“What? No, of course not. I want to have sex with you, Clint,” said Pietro. “I just thought you should know what I was thinking.”

“Oh. So you’re not scared you’ll hurt me?”

“Of course I am. I’ve been scared of hurting you from the second I realized what I’d become. But that’s not gonna stop me from screwing you senseless.”

Clint grinned.

“So you want to have sex with me tonight?”

“Yes, I do,” said Pietro. “Even though you ruined my emotional speech.”

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Clint said.

“Were you really just nervous about bringing this up because you thought I’d be too scared?” Pietro asked.

“Well... not entirely.”

“Why else, then?”

“It’s kinda embarrassing....”

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“Well, I uh....” Clint said, blushing and looking away. “I’ve kind of gotten a bit.... turned on... the last couple nights.”

“You got turned on... from me drinking your blood?” Pietro said.

“I guess so, yeah.”

Pietro laughed.

“Oh my god, you _are_ kinky,” he said. “That is amazing. That vampire could not have picked a better person’s boyfriend to bite. Holy shit, that is spectacular.”

“You’re really getting a kick outta this, aren’t you?” said Clint.

“Yeah, I am. I also think it’s kinda hot.”

“Wait, you do?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

Pietro smirked wickedly and leaned in slowly, teasing Clint with the closeness of their lips until finally Clint took Pietro’s face in his hands and closed the gap between them with a kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut is coming, my friends!


	6. how do you want me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Desire" by Meg Myers

 

When night fell, they got into Clint’s car and started to drive. The first place they went was Central Park so Pietro could just run around and burn off some pent up energy. He finished his run by tackling Clint into a patch of grass, where they made out for a while until they were interrupted by a family of raccoons. They ran back to the car laughing, then drove around until they went to the sleaziest bar they could find. They ordered drinks and sat down at one of the slightly sticky tables.

“Here’s to reckless living,” said Clint, holding up his plastic cup.

“Not that we’re any strangers to that,” Pietro said.

They tapped their cups together and drank. 

“So does alcohol even do anything for you anymore? Or did you just spend six bucks on shitty vodka for nothing?” Clint asked.

“How should I know, I’ve barely started it,” said Pietro.

“Good point. I’ll ask you after a few more. Hey, maybe we should get some shots.”

 

Almost two hours later, they left the bar. Clint was pretty close to being drunk, but Pietro was barely even buzzed, so he took over driving. They drove aimlessly around the city for another hour and a half, blasting the radio and singing along terribly. Once Clint started to sober up a little, they turned down the music so he could direct Pietro to the motel. 

“I know the owner, so she’ll be able to set aside a room for us to drop into whenever we need,” Clint said as they pulled up into the parking lot.

Pietro parked and they got out of the car and went to the reception office. The woman at the desk looked up when they came in and a huge smile spread across her face when she saw Clint.

“Hey Roz,” Clint said, leaning casually against the desk.

“Clint Barton, you rascal, it’s been too long!” Roz exclaimed. “Who’s your friend?”

“Boyfriend, actually. This is Pietro.”

“Your boyfriend, eh? How long has that been going on?”

“Almost a year,” said Clint.

“That long?” said Roz, surprised. “That’s a shocker. Never dreamed _you’d_ settle down. Or find someone who could put up with you for that long, more like. I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

She laughed and Clint joined in a little awkwardly. 

“So, what can I do for you, Clint?” Roz asked.

“We need a room,” said Clint. “And do you think you could keep it reserved for us indefinitely? We might be dropping in on kind of short notice like this for a while.”

“Ah, roommate complaints?” said Roz.

“Something like that.”

“Don’t worry, I get that more than you think. A quarter of the rooms here are booked up by couples who can’t screw at home ‘cause the walls are too thin.”

She typed something up on her computer, then handed Clint a key.

“There you go, room fifteen,” she said. 

“Thanks, Roz, you’re the best,” said Clint.

“Oh, I know,” said Roz. “Have a nice night.”

Clint took the key in one hand and Pietro’s hand in the other and they went to their room. It was a lot nicer than Pietro had expected, but still had that distinct cheap motel feel. Clint closed the door behind them and tossed his bag on the bed, then stripped off his jacket and t-shirt. Pietro watched him hungrily as he sat on the bed and pulled his knife from the bag. Clint sliced the blade across his left forearm this time, then set the knife on the bedside table. The coppery scent of blood filled the room. Head spinning and heart racing, Pietro stripped off his own jacket and climbed up onto the bed, straddling Clint and pinning him down. He smirked at him, grinding tauntingly against the front of Clint’s jeans, before pouncing onto his arm and starting to drink. The taste of alcohol lingered in his blood and made Pietro’s senses whirl pleasantly.

When Clint gently pulled him away, Pietro sat up and took off his t-shirt. He reached into the bag and took out a roll of bandages and a bottle of lube, then tended to Clint’s arm. He taped down the end of the bandage and leaned down to kiss Clint, rough and passionate. Clint moaned with pleasure, so Pietro deepened the kiss, catching Clint’s bottom lip between his teeth. Clint’s fingers fumbled with the button of Pietro’s jeans; Pietro broke away and sat up to take them off, then stripped off Clint’s pants as well. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” Clint said breathlessly.

Pietro smiled and leaned down to kiss him again, a bit gentler this time. Clint tangled his hands in Pietro’s hair and dragged him closer, slipping his tongue between Pietro’s lips and pulling his hair. Pietro moaned and reached blindly for the lube. 

“I want you so bad,” Clint murmured. “I need you...”

“How do you want me?” Pietro said, his voice a low growl.

“Ride me. I want to see how amazing you look with me inside you. Hold me down and ride me like it’s our last day on earth.”

Pietro grinned wickedly, crushing Clint’s lips in another kiss then pulling away.

“As you wish,” he hissed.

He sat up and covered his fingers in lube, then slowly started prepping himself. Clint lay beneath him, watching with a lustful gleam in his eyes, as Pietro pressed his fingers inside himself one by one. When he was ready, he got more lube and slicked up Clint’s cock, then lined himself up and slid down over him until Clint was fully inside. Clint groaned and gripped the sheets. Pietro bit his lip and gasped as he began to move, matching his movements with the occasional desperate thrusts of Clint’s hips. He ran his hands up Clint’s arms to hold his hands and interlaced their fingers. 

“Are you still doing alright?” he asked.

“Seriously, Pietro?” Clint groaned.

“I just want to make sure...”

“I’m fine, I’m amazing.”

“Good,” said Pietro. “Just tell me if-”

“Oh for god’s sake, Pietro,” Clint said exasperatedly.

He pulled his hands free and sat up, shutting Pietro up with a kiss. Pietro let out a little yelp of surprise as Clint’s cock thrust unexpectedly deeper and he had to shift slightly to accommodate their new position. He wrapped his arms around Clint’s neck and rested their foreheads together, his hair sticking to Clint’s sweaty face. Clint took Pietro’s cock in his hand and began to stroke it, which sent a whole new bolt of arousal shooting through Pietro’s body. 

He felt like he could go on forever like this with his new strength, yet at the same time Clint still managed to make him fall apart. He could feel his climax looming closer, urged along by Clint’s hand around his cock. He closed his eyes and threw back his head as he reached his orgasm. Barely a moment later, Clint finished too, coming inside him. Pietro rode out both their orgasms, then let his head fall exhaustedly onto Clint’s shoulder. Clint lay back against the pillows, dragging Pietro with him, and they stayed there a moment, panting. When he’d managed to catch his breath a little, Pietro rolled off of Clint and laid down next to him.

“Was that everything you wished for?” he murmured.

“Everything and more,” Clint replied. “What about you?”

“It was incredible,” said Pietro. “ _You_ were incredible.”

Clint smiled and kissed Pietro’s forehead.

“So were you.”

 


	7. suspicions

 

Clint had fallen asleep, and Pietro was so content he might as well have been. He was curled up against Clint’s side, listening to his breathing and the rhythmic beating of his heart, lured into a sort of trance. He had no idea how long they had lain there when Clint woke up and squinted groggily at the clock.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright. “It’s five, the sun’s gonna come up soon, we’ve gotta get you home!”

Pietro groaned. 

“Can’t we just stay here all day?”

“Only if you want the others to form a search party,” said Clint.

He got up and started collecting his clothes from the floor. Pietro didn’t budge.

“Come on, get up,” Clint said, throwing Pietro’s pants at him.

Pietro scowled, rolled off the bed, and got dressed. They gathered their things and went out to the car. Clint wasn’t nearly awake enough to drive, so Pietro took the wheel again and drove them back to the tower. They pulled into the garage just as the sun began to peek over the horizon.

“I hope you don’t mind if I go back to bed,” said Clint, yawning.

“Not at all,” Pietro said.

When they got upstairs, Clint went to their room and Pietro went out into the living room, where he was surprised to see Tony tinkering with a control panel on the wall.

“You’re up early,” he said.

“I never actually went to bed,” Tony said. “I’ve been working all night.”

“What were you working on?” Pietro asked.

“A little upgrade to the tower,” said Tony. “Check this out.”

He flicked a switch on the control panel and the windows became tinted, filtering the sunlight but still letting you see out.

“Ta-da! Now you can go anywhere in the tower you like during the day without getting a killer sunburn.”

Pietro smiled at him gratefully.

“Thanks, Stark. I mean it, I really appreciate this.”

“It was nothing,” Tony said with a shrug. He picked up his mug from the coffee table and sat down on the sofa. “So, you and Barton were out late last night. I heard you come in.”

“Yeah, we, uh... went to a bar,” said Pietro. 

“Can you still get drunk or are you like the super soldier boyfriends now?”

“Naw, I can’t, but Clint kinda did, so he’s in bed.”

“That must suck,” said Tony. 

“It’s not too bad. It was hard for me to get drunk anyway with my powers.”

“And now it’s just impossible.”

Just then, they were joined by Natasha.

“Surprised to see you boys up,” she commented, pouring herself some coffee and sitting down amidst the towering stacks of books.

“Never went to bed,” said Tony.

“Me neither,” said Pietro. “I don’t sleep, remember.”

“Oh yeah,” said Natasha.

She picked up one of the books and opened it to a place she’d marked, then picked up a notebook and pencil.

“How’s the translating coming?” Pietro asked.

“Hellish,” said Natasha. “This is only the second book.”

Pietro grimaced.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah, it is,” said Pietro. 

“Okay, yeah it is,” said Natasha. “But you don’t have to apologize for it. You didn’t _ask_ to get bit.”

“I most certainly didn’t,” Pietro sighed.

“How are you coping, by the way?” Natasha asked.

“Surprisingly well, actually,” Pietro replied. “Clint and I have talked out the things that had me most worried, so now it’s really just getting used to the whole thing.”

Natasha smiled.

“Good,” she said. “I’m glad you have him to help you through this. I can’t even imagine how hard it would be for you otherwise.”

Pietro chuckled to himself. She didn’t even know the half of it.

 

***

 

Time went on. Two months passed with very little luck finding a cure, but they just kept searching. Autumn arrived, the sun began to set earlier and rise later, and the weather became gloomy, the threat of storms always lingering in the air. The longer nights and near constant cloud cover meant that Pietro could go out more, even during the day, which he was definitely happy about. Even with his and Clint’s almost nightly outings, he still got restless. 

They continued sneaking off to Roz’s motel so Pietro could feed and they could have sex, though after the near disaster of the first time, they made a rule of leaving no more than an hour after they were finished. The others still thought they were going into the woods outside the city so Pietro could hunt, though with Pietro so clearly in control of his thirst, they didn’t quite understand why Clint continued to go with him. Clint just kept insisting that they couldn’t be too careful, but secretly he could tell they thought something was up.

 

His suspicions were confirmed one day when Wanda came up to him while he was in the kitchen getting lunch with a look on her face that clearly said ‘we need to talk’.

“I think Pietro’s hiding something from me,” she said without so much as a greeting.

Clint froze in the middle of closing a cabinet and forced himself not to seem as panicked as he felt.

“Oh really?” he said.

“I can tell there’s something,” Wanda said. “You spend more time with him than anyone, even me. Do you know what it could be?”

Clint didn’t answer right away. He didn’t want to lie to Wanda. She could always tell when people were lying to her. But he knew he couldn’t tell her the truth. Or at least not all of it. He sighed heavily and turned to her.

“Okay, you got me,” he said. “He _is_ hiding something. We both are.”

“What is it?”

“We’re sleeping together,” Clint said.

Wanda looked thoroughly underwhelmed.

“That’s not a secret, Clint,” she said.

“No, I mean, we’re _still_ sleeping together,” Clint corrected. “Even though he’s a vampire. We didn’t really want to say anything, we thought people might get weirded out... y’know, and think he could lose control and kill me...”

Wanda raised an eyebrow.

“So that’s all? That’s the big thing Pietro’s hiding? That you two are having sex?”

“Yeah... I guess it’s not that big a deal, is it...” said Clint.

“No, it’s really not,” said Wanda. “Still, I’m glad you were honest with me.”

 

Five minutes later, Clint hurried back into his room with his sandwich and closed the door behind him. Pietro was lying on his back on the bed, throwing darts at the ceiling rather than the dartboard.

“Tony’s gonna kill you if he finds out about that,” Clint said.

“Ha, as if,” said Pietro. “You took a while getting that sandwich. Forget where the peanut butter is again?”

“No, I uh... well, I had a little conversation with your sister,” said Clint, sitting on the bed.

“You don’t sound very happy about it.”

“Well, that’s because it was a kind of... awkward conversation.”

Pietro sat up and frowned at him.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“She knows we’re hiding something,” Clint said.

“Damn...” Pietro muttered. “What did you say to her?”

“I just told her we’re still sleeping together,” said Clint. “She doesn’t know there’s more to it.”

“It’s Wanda, she’ll know that wasn’t all the truth,” said Pietro.

“I know. We’ve gotta be more careful. If any of the others finds out... they won’t get it. They won’t understand.”

“How can we be any more careful than we already are?” Pietro said. 

“I don’t know,” said Clint. “It’s really hard sneaking around when one of our teammates is psychic.”

 


	8. your secret's out

 

Over the next week and a half, Clint and Pietro did all they could to be more careful about their nights in Roz’s motel. Admittedly, there wasn’t much they could do that they weren’t already, and Clint was having trouble coming up with any new ideas. He didn’t want to tell Pietro, but that wasn’t the only thing he was having trouble with either. He had noticed himself feeling sluggish and distracted lately, like he was fighting off an impending illness. He kept telling himself it was because he wasn’t getting enough sleep, but deep down he knew that wasn’t all. He just didn’t want to admit it to himself.

 

It was late afternoon and Clint was in the shooting range. He let an arrow fly and scowled as it hit the target, several rings from the bullseye.

“You never miss.”

He turned around to find Natasha watching him, leaning against a pillar.

“How do you know I wasn’t aiming for there?” Clint said defensively.

“Because I know you,” said Natasha. “Plus, if you’d glared at it any harder you’d set the target on fire.”

Clint sighed and set down his bow, then went to fetch his arrows from the target.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asked.

“Why do you think something’s wrong?” said Clint, coming back with his arrows and sticking them in his quiver.

“If nothing was wrong, you wouldn’t have missed.”

Clint didn’t answer. He nocked an arrow and took aim, then released the string. The arrow once again landed several rings from the center and Clint growled in frustration.

“Wanda told me you and Pietro are hiding something,” Natasha said.

“Yeah, we’re fucking, big whoop.”

“She said you’re hiding something else.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” Clint said.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me.”

“Look, Tasha, if I wanted you to know, I’d tell you.”

“Clint, I’m worried about you,” said Natasha. “There’s _obviously_ something wrong, and now you’re hiding things from me. I mean, as if that wasn’t enough for me to worry, the fact that _Pietro_ is hiding things from _Wanda_ is definitely gonna make me worry.”

“There’s nothing wrong, Nat,” Clint insisted.

“Are you sick?” Natasha asked. 

“No.”

“So you’re not dying?”

“Of course not.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“What? No!” said Clint. “Why would you even think that?”

“I dunno, maybe ‘cause he’s a _vampire_.”

“He hasn’t hurt me, Nat.”

“Then why are you always wearing long sleeves? It’s hot in here, but you’re wearing a jacket. You’re hiding something, Clint. Please, I want to help. Just tell me what’s going on!”

“Okay, you know what? Fine! I’ll tell you,” said Clint. “You’re gonna hate me for it, and you’re gonna hate Pietro even more, but I’m gonna tell you because I love you too much to lie to you like this.”

He unzipped his jacket and took it off, revealing the dozens of thin scars covering his arms and the bandages from the most recent cuts.

“Clint... what...?”

“I’ve been feeding him. Ever since the beginning,” said Clint. “I’ve been letting him drink my blood.”

“You _what_?” Natasha said, looking horrified. “Clint, he could _kill_ you!”

“He could, but he wouldn’t,” said Clint. “He loves me, he would never hurt me.”

“Maybe not intentionally, but-”

“He’s not some animal, Natasha!” Clint said. “He has a mind, he can think.”

“Everyone is driven by instinct, every creature on this planet. Pietro’s instinct is to kill,” said Natasha. “That’s what vampires _do_. They kill people.”

“Yeah, and this is keeping him from doing that,” Clint argued. “We tried the whole animal blood thing, but we fucking live in New York City. The only animals we found in that so-called ‘woods’ were squirrels. He couldn’t survive on that. This is a hell of a lot better than letting him go after other people. This way it’s just me, and it’s a controlled environment-”

“Is it controlled? Is it really?” said Natasha. “How much control does he actually have once he gets going? What’s to stop him from going too far?”

“Me. I stop him,” said Clint. “And he’s starting to learn my limits too, he knows when to slow down. It’s not easy for him, sure, but he doesn’t want to hurt me.”

“You say he’s not an animal but you’re talking like you’re training a dog.”

“Natasha-”

“Why does it have to be you?” Natasha asked. “Why can’t you just give him blood bags from medical? Why do you have to put yourself at risk?”

“I’m not gonna stop doing this because you’re a little freaked.”

“Why not? Clint, you may think you’re keeping things in control, but it’s starting to catch up with you. You’re not giving yourself time to recover.”

“It’s not a big deal,” said Clint.

“Why do you think we’re even having this conversation?” Natasha said. “Obviously it’s a bigger deal than you realize or I wouldn’t have noticed. You’re pale and tired and you can’t focus. You’re not recovering enough between... feedings, or whatever you wanna call them. It’s happening slowly, but this _is_ killing you.”

“I told you, I’m not stopping.”

“Why?”

“He has to eat!”

“But why _your_ blood?”

“I don’t want to stop, okay?!” Clint exploded.

Natasha stared at him.

“Oh my god, you _like_ it. You actually _like_ it,” she said, unable to hide her disgust.

“Maybe I do,” said Clint. “Judge me all you like.”

“I don’t understand,” said Natasha. “What is it, some sort of death wish? Some weird form of Stockholm Syndrome?”

“I don’t know, Nat, okay?” Clint said. “But I enjoy it, and so does he. I don’t know if we _could_ stop, even if we wanted to.”

“So what, it’s an addiction?”

“Maybe. I don’t entirely know what it’s like for him because he doesn’t talk about it much. I think he’s afraid it would scare me off if he did. But I know that my blood is... I don’t know, he’s drawn to it more than anyone else’s. From the moment he got turned, he could smell it and he wanted it more than anything else. You have no idea how hard it is for him, how much control he’s got to have. The fact that he loves me makes him want to kill me all the more, but he couldn’t stand to kill me because he loves me. It’s a... sick paradox.”

“And what about you?” Natasha asked, and there was something almost like pity in her voice now. “How does the addiction work for you?”

“It’s complicated,” said Clint. “I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t even know if I understand it myself. But I guess... it’s just.... there’s something incredibly intimate about it. _My_ blood is what’s feeding him, what’s keeping him alive. It’s like we’re sharing the same life force. I’m putting my life in his hands and trusting him with it. And... just... the act of it... there’s something about it that I can’t explain, the dizzying rush...”

“It’s called blood loss, Clint.”

“No, I know what that feels like, and that’s not what I’m talking about. It’s like... an adrenaline rush or an orgasm... you can’t describe how it feels.”

“Clint, I’m serious... you can’t keep going on like this,” said Natasha. “It’s sick and it’s dangerous. You know what people do with addictions? They break them. You’ve _got_ to quit.”

“I’m sorry, Natasha, but it’s not gonna happen,” Clint said.

“Clint-”

“End of discussion.”

Then he turned on his heel and left.

 

***

 

Pietro was sitting on the bed, throwing darts at the ceiling again, when Clint came in. He sat up, smiling, but his smile faltered the moment he saw the look on Clint’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I told Natasha,” Clint said.

“What?!” Pietro exclaimed, getting to his feet. “Why’d you do that?”

“I had to. I can’t lie to her, she sees right through me,” said Clint. “She noticed I was looking kinda pale and stuff and she confronted me and... I didn’t really have much choice. I’m sorry.”

“How did she react?” Pietro asked.

“About how you’d expect. Freaked out. Disgusted.”

“Let me guess, she wants us to stop.”

“Yeah. I told her we wouldn’t,” said Clint.

“She’s gonna tell the others, you know.”

“Maybe... I hope not.”

“She will,” said Pietro. “And then all of them will tell us to stop.”

“I know. Maybe she won’t though,” said Clint. “I made it pretty clear that we weren’t gonna stop just ‘cause she doesn’t like it, so maybe she’ll just let it slide.”

“Mr. Barton, Mr. Maximoff,” FRIDAY suddenly interrupted. “Mr. Stark asked me to summon you.”

“You were saying?” Pietro said bitterly.

“Oh shut up.”

They went out to the living room and found the entire team waiting for them, looking grim. 

“So. You told them,” Clint said, sitting down.

Pietro sat next to Clint, trying to ignore the stares of his teammates.

“Yes, I did,” said Natasha.

“Why?”

“If your friend tells you a life-endangering secret, you don’t keep it a secret,” Natasha said. “You learn that in like second grade.”

“My life isn’t in danger, Nat,” Clint sighed.

“It could be,” Steve said.

“Pietro’s not gonna kill me.”

“I told you before, you’re not giving yourself time to recover. Your body can’t handle it,” said Natasha. “Tell him, Helen. You’re a doctor, maybe he’ll actually _listen_ to you.”

“Natasha’s right,” said Helen. “Your body isn’t capable of losing significant quantities of blood so frequently. It’s starting to take a toll on you already, and if you keep this up, it _will_ kill you.”

“And you can’t just say it’s only ‘til we cure Pietro, ‘cause at the moment, I don’t know if we’re even gonna be able to cure him,” said Bucky.

“It’s not a disease, Barnes,” said Clint.

“Okay fine, a way to reverse it, then. Either way, we have no idea when or if we’ll even be able to do it.”

“So what, you want me to let him starve?”

“Of course not,” said Steve. “But there are other ways-”

“Oh yeah, like what? ‘Cause that so-called forest you sent him to didn’t have shit,” said Clint. 

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

“Because we found our own way,” said Clint. “And it works. But you guys have always gotta meddle...”

“Clint, you’re _dying_!” said Sam. “That’s a damn good reason for us to meddle.”

“I’m not dying,” Clint insisted. “This _works_ and you’re not gonna stop me from doing it.”

“Barton, would you listen to yourself?” said Tony. “You’re letting him kill you and neither of you are even noticing or caring. Romanoff’s right, you’re fucking addicts!”

“You have to stop,” said Natasha.

“No, we don’t!”

“Does _anyone_ here even care what I think!?” Pietro interrupted angrily.

Everyone fell silent and stared at him. He had been quiet up until now, but he couldn’t stand it any longer.

“You’re all just arguing amongst yourselves and not even bothering to ask my opinion on any of it,” he continued. “You’re talking about me like I’m not even here. I’m not some pet that you can just decide what to do with. I may not be human anymore, but I’m still _me_. I have a brain, I can think, and even though you’re not saying it outright, it’s pretty damn obvious what you all think of me.

“I know that what I’m doing is killing Clint. I’ve known it for weeks. And I _hate_ myself for it. I hate that I’m killing him, and I hate that I can’t stop. You’re right, Stark. I _am_ an addict. Clint’s blood is like a drug to me. I know I should stop, even if he doesn’t want me to. But I’m afraid that if I try, my need for it will make me more dangerous than ever. I’m afraid it would drive me mad and I’d kill him without a second thought just so I could taste his blood again.

“I don’t want to be the monster you all think I am. But it’s inevitable. No matter what I do, I’m going to be that monster. I’m a vampire. It’s in my nature. All I can do is make is make sure I don’t hurt any of you because of it. I...I know what I have to do to keep that from happening. To keep myself from killing you, Clint.”

“Pietro, please...”

“This is my choice.”

“You’ve made the right decision, Pietro,” said Steve.

“Yeah, I have,” Pietro said. “But it’s not the one you think it is.”

He took Clint’s face in his hands and kissed him, lingering for a moment with their foreheads touching. He took a deep breath and a tear escaped down his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

He got to his feet, Clint watching him in confusion. Then he ran. He could hear Clint shouting his name behind him, running after him even though he knew he’d never catch up, but Pietro didn’t stop. He kept running down flight after flight of stairs until he reached the ground floor, then he ran out the front door, not even bothering to close it behind him. He didn’t stop running until he was out of the city, on the outskirts of that pathetic little forest where this whole fiasco began. There he finally stopped and collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath, and sobbed until he had no tears left.

 


	9. honey don't you leave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Jetpack Blues" by Fall Out Boy

 

Clint ran after Pietro, ignoring the others shouting his name, telling him he’d never catch up. He knew that. He knew there was no one on earth that could stop Pietro now. But he didn’t care. He just kept running, calling his name. The front door stood open ahead of him and he burst out into the pouring rain.

“Pietro!” he shouted desperately. “Pietro, please!”

There was no answer, because of course Pietro was long gone. But Clint couldn’t stop. He had to find him. Hot tears and cold raindrops intermingled on his face and he was already soaked to the skin, but he had to go on. He ran out into the street, dodging cars, calling for Pietro, begging him to come back. He knew it was hopeless, but giving up and going home felt so wrong, so weak. 

He had no idea where he was going or how long he searched. The sky was dark and the rain kept falling without rest. Clint had resorted to wandering the streets, hoarsely whispering Pietro’s name. Finally he fell to his knees, too exhausted to continue. He didn’t know where he was and he didn’t care. If he had collapsed in the middle of the road, so be it, let the cars run him over. A tired sob escaped him and he buried his face in his hands.

“Clint!”

Natasha’s voice echoed off the buildings and Clint looked up to see her running toward him, Steve and Bucky in tow. She went to her knees in front of him and took his face in her hands.

“God dammit, Clint,” she said, and Clint was surprised to see she was crying. “You scared us half to death.”

“I’m sorry,” Clint mumbled.

“Bucky, call the others, tell them we found him,” said Natasha. “Come on, Clint, let’s get you home.”

She went to help him to his feet, but Clint’s whole body felt like lead.

“Tasha... ‘m sorry....”

“It’s okay, Clint,” said Natasha. “Now come on, we need to get you warmed up.”

Clint honestly wasn’t sure if he was trying to move or not, but it didn’t seem to be working if he was. He was too tired, too cold, too heartbroken.

“Steve, I don’t think he can walk, I can’t even get him to stand up,” Natasha said, sounding frightened.

Suddenly Clint felt a pair of large, strong arms around him and he was lifted off the ground. Then everything faded to black.

 

***

 

Clint awoke to find himself in a soft, warm bed. His brain felt slow and muddled, and his whole body felt about as immovable as a ton of bricks. With an effort, he managed to open his eyes. He was in the infirmary, and sitting in a chair by his bed was Natasha. Then everything came flooding back with such ferocity that the shattered remains of his heart broke as if it was happening all over again.

“Pietro...” he whispered, his voice hoarse and cracked.

Natasha took his hand, looking at him sadly.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Some of the team kept searching for him after we brought you back, but it was no use. He’s long gone.”

“Did anyone check Roz’s motel? He might have gone there, it’s where we....” Clint trailed off, a dull ache throbbing in his chest.

“I don’t think he’d have gone there,” said Natasha. “He’s smart enough not to go someplace like that if he doesn’t want to be found.”

“But why? Why doesn’t he want me to find him? Why did he leave?” Clint said.

Fresh tears were threatening to overwhelm him, making his already aching head hurt all the more.

“He left because he loves you,” said Natasha.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes all the sense in the world. He did the only thing he could to keep you safe. You heard him, he knows he’s not strong enough to stop on his own.”

Clint’s bottom lip trembled and his vision blurred as the tears began to escape down his cheeks.

“But he’s out there all alone,” he said.

“Pietro’s an adult, he can handle himself,” said Natasha. She gave his hand a comforting squeeze. “We’re still gonna keep looking for him, Clint. Tony’s already putting together an algorithm to search the internet and media for any sign of him, no matter how small. A vampire’s bound to leave a trail. Especially a heartbroken one. It may take a while, but we _will_ find him. I promise.”

“Thank you,” said Clint. “And Natasha?”

“Hmm?”

“You guys will keep searching for a cure, right? You’ll find one that works? Please?”

“Of course.”

“I just have to get him back, Tasha,” Clint said. “And making him human again is the only way I truly can.”

“We’ll find a cure and we’ll get him back, I promise,” said Natasha. “Now get some rest.”

She stood up and leaned down to kiss his forehead, then left the infirmary. Clint watched her go, then closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

 


	10. welcome to the coven

 

Rainwater dripped steadily from Pietro’s drenched hair and the knees of his jeans were soaked through with mud. Little clouds formed from his breath, but the cold had no effect on him. His eyes were red from crying and his throat ached from sobs that had choked him and left him unable to breathe. But now he had run out of tears. All he had left was a hollow, empty feeling inside him, a hole in his heart where Clint belonged. Poor Clint, he didn’t deserve this. He had done nothing wrong, nothing. He had simply tried to help and gotten lost in the effort. 

_I’m the one to blame for all this_ , Pietro thought miserably. _I’m the monster._

That was why he had to leave, no matter how much he wanted to go back. Every second he knelt there in the mud, he felt the pull of home trying to lure him back into the city, to Avengers Tower, to Wanda, to _Clint_. But he couldn’t. He had to resist, he had to leave. He had to keep Clint safe, and he never would be as long as Pietro was there. 

Another dry sob escaped him and he slowly hauled himself to his feet. If he was truly going to leave, he had to do it now. He couldn’t risk getting stuck outside when the sun rose. He had to make his choice. Go back and find a way to fix things with Clint, or keep running until he found someplace to lay low. He looked over his shoulder, back at the city lights. 

“I’m so sorry, Clint,” he whispered.

He turned his back on New York City and ran off into the darkness.

 

***

 

Pietro finally stopped in a small city many miles away. He didn’t know the city’s name or even what state he was in, but it was far from Manhattan and that was all that mattered. The streets were quiet and deserted except for the occasional car and a few drunks. It wasn’t raining here, but it clearly had rained earlier; puddles stood in clogged gutters and the pavement glistened in the orange light of the street lamps. 

Pietro walked along with his hands in his pockets, looking for a motel sign or maybe a light in an apartment where someone might let him stay until the next sunset. All of a sudden he stopped. There was a smell on the air, a familiar scent... the smell of blood. Then somebody screamed. Pietro ran in the direction of the sound and found himself in an alley behind a bar. A young woman was lying on the ground, twitching and whimpering, pinned down by someone else, another woman. At the sound of Pietro’s approach, the woman looked up. She was pale as death with red eyes. A sinister smile lit up her face at the sight of him and a trickle of blood ran down her chin.

“You’re a vampire,” Pietro said.

“Yes, I am,” the woman said. “So are you.”

Pietro just stared at her, his gaze wandering down to the bloody wound on the girl’s neck.

“I can share if you’re hungry,” the woman said.

“I couldn’t,” said Pietro.

“Oh god, you’re not one of those ‘vegetarian’ pansies, are you?” the woman groaned.

“No,” said Pietro defensively. “I just... I...”

“You’re not from around here. I’d know you if you were. Where’d you wander in from, then?”

“New York.”

“Oho, big city boy, then,” said the woman, getting to her feet and walking over to him. “What are you doing in a dump like this then?”

“Running away,” said Pietro quietly.

“Homeless then. Looking for a place to stay. Why don’t you come live with us?”

“Us?” Pietro echoed.

“Yeah. There’s a whole coven of us here in town,” the woman said. “You can join us.”

“I don’t know...” said Pietro. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Lesandra. And you are?”

“Pietro.”

“Well, Pietro. What say you?” said Lesandra. “Would you like to join your brothers and sisters? Or would you rather wander up and down the east coast by yourself?”

Pietro hesitated, glancing behind Lesandra at the barely alive girl lying on the pavement. He knew what going with her and joining this coven meant. It meant he’d be fully embracing his life as a vampire, as a monster. He’d be killing people for food, innocent people. But he’d be with other vampires. People who would understand him. His own kind. And the thought of being alone after all this time with the Avengers, with a family...

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll join you.”

Lesandra smiled.

“I hoped you would,” she said. “What d’you say I get this to-go, and I can introduce you to your new family?”

She turned and picked up the girl, slinging her over her shoulder like a sack of flower, then beckoned to Pietro.

 

He followed Lesandra through the city, through all the dark alleys, until they reached a big old house in a neighborhood on the edge of town. Lesandra fished a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door. 

“Come on in,” she said, leading the way inside.

Pietro followed her over the threshold into a surprisingly well lit house. The windows were all covered with thick, dark curtains, but every room was full of decorative lamps, each more elaborate than the next. The furniture and decor was comfortable and modern with a hint of the ornate, just enough to suggest that yes, a family of vampires lived here. Just off the entrance hall was the living room, where several vampires were lounging around. Lesandra led Pietro into the room and they looked up. One of them, a man who had probably been in his forties when he was changed, stood and walked over to them. He was taller than Pietro and had broad shoulders and a stern face. Between that and the leather trenchcoat, he cut a very intimidating figure.

“Who’s this?” the man asked.

“This is Pietro. He’s new in town. Thought I’d give him a home,” said Lesandra.

“How long have you been a vampire, boy?” the man said, turning to Pietro.

“Um... a couple months,” Pietro replied.

“Young, then,” said the man. “Good. It’ll be easier for you to learn our ways with so little history behind you. My name is Jackson. Welcome to the coven.”

 


	11. a new home

 

Lesandra introduced Pietro to the other vampires, then showed him upstairs to his new room.

“You’re lucky we had a free room,” she said. “The guy who lived here before got staked by a hunter ‘bout a week ago.”

“A hunter?” Pietro said.

“Yeah, they’re human bastards who track down ‘monsters’ and kill them,” said Lesandra. “One of the reasons I invited you to join us, actually. I could tell you were pretty new to this life, and loners usually get picked off the easiest.”

“So it was a pity invite,” Pietro smirked.

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“The guy who got killed... what happened?” Pietro asked. “I mean, what happens when a vampire gets staked?”

“Wow, you really are new,” said Lesandra.

“I’ve been kinda shut in the last few months.”

“Well... he turned to dust. Just... poof. Nothing.”

Pietro glanced around the room. Someone had lived here just a week earlier, and now he was dead without even a body to bury. 

“Hey,” said Lesandra, pulling him from his thoughts. “There’s a bathroom through there, why don’t you get cleaned up while I see about getting you some new clothes. You’re not gonna make a very impressive vampire in jeans and a hoodie.”

“Thanks,” said Pietro.

“It’s no biggie. You’re one of us now. We look after our own.”

Lesandra left, closing the door behind her. Pietro went to the bathroom she had indicated and stripped off his mud-caked clothes, then turned on the shower and got in. The feel of the hot water on his cold skin was comforting; ever since he’d become a vampire, the heat of a shower had been one of the only two things that let him experience warmth. The other had been Clint. He sighed and closed his eyes, forcing himself to stop thinking of Clint. He knew if he kept letting his mind wander back to him, all he’d feel was regret and pain. So he shoved the thought aside and focused on washing up. 

Once he was finished, he turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and went back into his room. Lesandra had left a little stack of clothes on the desk chair. He picked up the clothes and looked at them; black skinny jeans, a dark grey v-neck, and a leather jacket. Pietro wasn’t normally one for leather – it slowed him down too much – but Lesandra was right, if he was going to embrace the life of a vampire, he needed to look the part. 

He got dressed, then pulled on the beat up black combat boots she had left for him. If he thought the leather jacket would slow him down, these certainly would. It would take a lot of work to get used to running in heavy boots instead of his lightweight track shoes. 

Just then there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he called.

The door opened and Lesandra stepped inside. 

“How do I look?” Pietro asked.

“Like a real vampire,” said Lesandra. “Does it all fit okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just the right size.”

“Good. We’ll get you some more things tomorrow night when I take you out hunting.”

“Thanks again for all this,” Pietro said. “I... well, I was pretty lost. I don’t know what I would do if you hadn’t brought me here.”

“I told you, it’s no biggie,” said Lesandra. She went over and sat on the couch. “So... you ran away, huh? What were you running away from?”

“Myself, I guess,” said Pietro, joining her on the couch. “Or... something I’d done.”

“What did you do?”

“I was hurting someone I love.”

“What did you do to them?” Lesandra said.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” said Pietro, looking down at his hands.

“Okay, I won’t pry,” said Lesandra. “There’s plenty of secrets in this house. We’ve all got a history, and lots of us would rather not share. For example, and you’re not to breathe a word of this, Suzanne and I both reckon Jim was in the mafia with Al Capone before he got turned.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.”

Pietro chuckled.

“What? I said I was serious!” said Lesandra.

“It’s not that, it’s just... when you think of vampires you think of names like Dracula. Not something as normal as ‘Jim’,” said Pietro.

“Hey, we were all human once. Just a bunch of regular Joes,” Lesandra said. “I was a telephone operator back in the day. Had a sweetheart who was off fighting the Nazis. Never did see him again.”

“I’m sorry,” said Pietro.

“It’s fine. I’ve had seventy years to get over it,” said Lesandra. “What about you? What were you before you got the bite?”

Pietro turned away again.

“I was no one.”

“Sure you were. Everyone’s somebody.”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Aha, see? You _were_ somebody,” said Lesandra. “It’s only a matter of time before I figure it out. I think I’m close to getting it out of Jim, you know. I’ll get it out of you too.”

Pietro gave her a skeptical smirk, but secretly he was worried. He knew he was signing up for some shady characters joining the coven, but if Lesandra figured out who he was, that he was an Avenger, he ran the risk of putting everyone he loved in danger. He had left to keep them safe, to keep Clint safe, and he wasn’t about to put him back in the line of fire. He would have to play things close to the chest now, to lie about who he was and where he came from. It was a hell of a way to start out making new friends, but it was what he had to do. No matter what happened, Pietro knew that the secret of his identity was one he’d have to take to the grave.

 


	12. without you

 

Helen let Clint leave the infirmary in the morning, but the moment he went out and faced the others, he wished he was back in bed. He knew they didn’t mean any harm, that they were just worried about him, and he didn’t blame them after how he’d acted last night. But still, the looks of pity and concern were hard to bear. Even worse was how half the team now treated him like he was made of glass and could shatter at any second, avoiding the mere mention of Pietro’s existence in case it sent Clint into a desperate fit or something. 

By noon, he’d had enough of their pity and locked himself in his room. Of course, they were bound to worry about him even more after watching him sulk out in a huff and slam his door behind him, but Clint honestly didn’t give a damn. Let them worry and fuss over him, just as long as he didn’t have to deal with their worrying and fussing. He didn’t want their pity. He wanted Pietro back.

Lying on his back and staring at the pin-prick holes from where Pietro had thrown darts at the ceiling, Clint thought about what the others had said last night. They were right of course, he couldn’t deny it even as he fought with them about it. Letting Pietro drink his blood had been reckless and dangerous and it _had_ been killing him. If the way he’d been feeling lately wasn’t proof enough already, his collapse in the street last night certainly was. 

And as much as it broke his heart, he sort of understood why Pietro left. Pietro knew that leaving was the only way to do what neither of them would have been strong enough to do if he’d stayed. It was the only way they could stop. The only way Clint could survive this. 

And yet he still wasn’t sure he _would_ survive this. Not because he’d lost blood, but because he’d lost Pietro. He loved Pietro more than he’d thought possible. Just over a year ago, he hadn’t even known the kid existed. Now he couldn’t live without him. Funny how love could make a person so important to you that you can’t imagine how you lived before you knew them.

There was a soft knock on the door, but Clint ignored it. He didn’t care who it was. He didn’t want to talk to anyone about anything. He didn’t want to see anyone. All he wanted was to lie on this bed in peace and imagine Pietro was still there next to him, warm and _human_. There was another knock, this time more persistent, but Clint continued to ignore it.

“Clint, it’s me. It’s Wanda. I know you’re in there.”

Of course. Clint felt almost selfish for forgetting that he wasn’t the only person suffering from Pietro’s absence. He was Wanda’s brother, of course she was hurting. This whole vampire ordeal had strained her, Clint knew, and though she was accepting, they all knew how scared she was for her brother. Now she had to be absolutely terrified. But still, Clint couldn’t bring himself to answer the door.

“Clint, I know you’re hurting,” said Wanda. “I don’t blame you for hiding away like this. You’ve been by Pietro’s side through all of this, you know him better than anyone, even me. I understand why you did what you did. And I understand why you didn’t want to stop. You and me, we’ve always been the ones to refuse to give up on him, right from the beginning. All either of us ever wanted was to save him. And we’re gonna do that again, we’re gonna find him and cure him. But all Pietro wants is to save _us_ too. He was willing to die to save you when he barely even knew you. And now he does know you, and he loves you so much... he would go to the ends of the earth to save you. I hope you know that, Clint. I hope you realize how much you mean to him. How much he loves you.”

_I do know_ , Clint thought with tears in his eyes. 

Oh God, did he know.

 

***

 

Days went by. Long, silent, lonely days. Clint barely ate, and even though he spent most of his time in bed, he barely slept. Every inch of him, body and soul, ached for Pietro. But Pietro was gone, and he had no way of knowing if he was ever coming back. So he just gave up on himself. He had no will left. Some of the others tried to talk to him, to bring him round, but every time he just sat there, barely listening, waiting for them to finish and leave him alone. That was all he wanted now. To be left alone.

 

Two weeks had passed since Pietro ran away. Clint lay in bed as usual, staring at the empty pillow beside him. He felt so empty; the only thing left inside him was the pain of Pietro’s absence, still as sharp as the day he left. Suddenly someone knocked on the door and opened it. Clint sat up as Tony stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he said, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. “How are you doing?”

“Shitty. Go away,” said Clint bluntly.

“Wow. Five syllables. New record.”

“Please leave,” Clint said.

“Nope. I’ve got a bone to pick with you first.”

“Stark...”

“Shut up and listen to me,” said Tony. “Everybody else has tried to nice and gentle approach with you, so I figure it’s time you got a little tough love.”

Clint sighed irritably but let Tony talk.

“You have got to cut this shit out, Barton. Yeah, Pietro left. It sucks. You’re hurting. But he left to save your stupid ass, so starving yourself to death seems a pretty poor way to repay him for that. You want to get him back, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” said Clint.

“Then fucking work for it. Help us find him, help us find a cure,” said Tony. “We’re working our asses off for you, because we care about you and we care about Pietro, and we want you two to be okay. You love him. So prove it. Don’t just lie up here wasting away with grief. _Fight for him_.”

Then he stood up and left. Clint stared at the door, Tony’s words still sinking in. He was right. They had all been right, of course, but it had taken a harsher awakening to get Clint to see it. He got up and went into the bathroom, pausing a moment to look at his reflection in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he hadn’t shaved in a few days and he just generally looked like a mess. He turned away from the mirror and got undressed, then took a cold shower. When he was finished, he wrapped a towel around his waist and went back to the mirror to shave. He returned to his room and put on clean clothes.

“Okay, Barton. Time to pull your shit together,” he said.

Then he left his room. The first place he went was the kitchen, where he poured himself a ridiculously huge bowl of cereal. Then he went to the living room and sat down on the floor. The rest of the team was staring at him, distracted from their books and computers and notebooks, no doubt surprised to see him eating and making some sort of effort to take care of himself. Clint took a bite of cereal and looked around at them all.

“Okay, I’m ready. Tell me where to start,” he said.

Tony grinned and turned to Pepper.

“Told you it would work.”

 


	13. traitor

 

Three weeks had passed since Pietro left Avengers Tower and joined the coven. Lesandra had taught him all there was to know about their ways and about hunting and he had picked it up expertly. At first he had been reluctant to hunt humans and kill innocent people, but Lesandra had told him right from the start that it was kill or starve, so he forced himself to get over it. And once he did, he became lethal. 

Vampires were fast, but none were as fast as Pietro. His speed gave him an extra edge and made him terrifying. While the other vampires would occasionally lose a target, if Pietro chose to go after someone, there was no chance of their escape. After a while, arrogance stepped in and he started to mess with his prey, taunting them, making them think they might be able to get away before darting in for the kill. Eventually Jackson told him off for playing with his food, so he saved the mischief for when it was just him and Lesandra on a hunt. 

Perhaps it was partially because she was the one who first brought Pietro to the coven, but he and Lesandra had become close friends and wickedly dangerous hunting partners. They worked well together, which Pietro was glad for. He could work fine on his own, but he had always had a partner in crime and he would feel strange without someone by his side, like an untethered sail flapping wildly in the wind. He needed a rope to hold him down and Lesandra had become that for him. She could never replace Wanda and Clint, but she could still fill that role and help keep him grounded.

 

It was the morning after a particularly successful hunt, and Pietro had gone up to his room to wash up. When he came back out of the bathroom, he found Lesandra leaning on the doorframe, smiling at him.

“You were magnificent last night, by the way,” she said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

“Thanks. You weren’t bad yourself,” said Pietro.

“Oh, ‘not bad’, huh? That’s how it’s gonna be?” Lesandra teased.

Pietro smirked.

“Can’t have you getting a big head,” he said.

“Yeah, if my head was as big as yours we wouldn’t fit in the same room together.”

“That’s cold,” said Pietro in mock offense.

“I’m a vampire, baby, everything about me is cold,” said Lesandra.

Pietro laughed and went to hang his jacket up in the closet. When he turned back around, Lesandra was right in front of him, incredibly close.

“Uhh, hi,” he said awkwardly.

“‘Hi’?” Lesandra repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Where’d that smart-mouthed scoundrel from a second ago run off to?”

“You think I’m a scoundrel?” Pietro said.

“In the best sense.”

Lesandra took another step toward him, backing him into the closet door. She was staring up at him with a look not unlike the one he had seen her give her prey. He could tell where this was going and he didn’t like it.

“Lesandra, I don’t think-”

“What, that this is a good idea?” said Lesandra. “Sue me.”

She grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him roughly into a kiss. Pietro’s eyes widened in alarm and he tried to get away. Finally he managed to push her off of him, both panting like they’d run a race. Lesandra looked at him with disdainful confusion.

“What was that for?” she demanded.

“What do you think it was for? Obviously I don’t wanna kiss you,” said Pietro.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t love you. I have a boyfriend.”

Lesandra stared.

“It’s that person, the one you left ‘cause you were hurting them,” she said. “That’s him, your boyfriend.”

Pietro nodded.

“But you _left_ him, surely that means you’re a free agent now,” said Lesandra.

“I didn’t break up with him,” Pietro said. “I just left. To protect him. Because I love him.”

“Holy shit, he’s human, isn’t he?” said Lesandra.

“Yes.”

“So that’s why you didn’t want to kill humans when you first came,” she said, sounding beyond disgusted now. “Because you’re _in love_ with one. That is...”

She trailed off, struggling to find a word fitting how she felt.

“Stupid? Reckless?” Pietro suggested. “Trust me, I’ve heard all that before.”

“No, it’s not that,” said Lesandra. “It’s pathetic. It’s weak. _You’re_ weak, letting yourself fall in love with a stupid, breakable human.”

“I loved him before I was a vampire. I wasn’t going to stop just because I was different,” said Pietro.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Pietro,” said Lesandra. “You’re not just weak, you’re a traitor to our kind. And I let you come into our coven! Why didn’t you tell me you lived with humans?!”

“Because I was in pain, okay? I didn’t _want_ to talk about it. I was alone and lost and heartbroken,” said Pietro. “Hell, I didn’t even know it was important. You said it yourself, we were all human once.”

“Yeah, and now we’re _better_ ,” said Lesandra. “We’re better than they are, and yet you still wanna hang around them, you’re still in love with one of them. It’s disgusting.”

“Fine,” said Pietro bitterly. “So I’m a weak and disgusting traitor, all because I dared stay with the man I love when I became a vampire. If that’s what you’re gonna think of me, then fine. I don’t care. I’ve dealt with bigots before, this is no different. A little more insulting though, since I did consider you a friend.”

“I considered you a friend too,” said Lesandra. “Which is why I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Goodbye, Pietro.”

She turned on her heel and left the room, slamming the door behind her. There was a second of silence, then the unmistakable click of a lock.

“Shit.”

Pietro ran to the door and tried to open it. She had locked him in.

“Lesandra!” he shouted. “Lesandra, wait! What are you doing? Let me out! Lesandra!”

 


	14. hunters

 

Clint had to admit that he wasn’t being the biggest help in their search for Pietro and a cure. He was still tired and worn down and depressed, but it did make him feel a little better to be at least trying to get Pietro back. He was a man of action, and lying around doing nothing had only made him feel worse. He wasn’t very good at wallowing.

He also wasn’t very good at researching witchcraft, as it turned out. Natasha had managed to translate everything that was in Latin, and they had managed to rule out several different options, but they still were hardly any closer to finding a cure that they could actually manage. Clint was frustrated, but he hid it well. He knew the others were watching him anxiously, worried that he’d relapse into the lethargic state he’d been in before, and he didn’t want to give them more cause for concern by acting as moody as he felt.

 

The biting cold of mid-November had arrived, but the Avengers were safe from it in the tower. There was a crackling fire burning in the living room fireplace and though it was only four in the afternoon, the sky outside was already beginning to darken. The team were all huddled over their books and notes as usual, clutching steaming mugs of coffee or tea. Over three months of researching since Pietro got turned had started to take a toll on them – they were all visibly exhausted. Clint couldn’t help thinking that they looked like a bunch of overworked college seniors during finals week, squinting at books day and night, wearing the same sweats as yesterday, and surviving on little more than coffee and ramen.

“Well, kids, I’ve got some news,” said Tony, looking up from his laptop.

“Good or bad?” Bucky asked.

“It’s a toss up,” said Tony. 

“Well, what is it?” said Clint.

“I think I may have found Pietro.”

The book Clint was reading slipped from his hands and landed on the floor with a dull thud. He stared at Tony, his heart pounding, desperate for him to go on.

“How? Where?” said Wanda.

“There’s this group of people called hunters,” Tony explained. “They’re basically a bunch of humans who know about things like vampires and all that and, well... hunt them. They go after creatures that they classify as monsters and kill them.”

“Oh God, they haven’t killed him, have they?” Clint said.

“I don’t think so, not unless my theory is wildly wrong,” said Tony.

“What’s this theory?” Natasha asked.

“Well, some of the hunters started this website with regional message boards so they can trade tips and find potential cases,” said Tony. “I signed up and started looking into vampire activity and... I found something that could be him.”

“Where?” Clint asked.

“There’s this little town that’s had a lot of violent deaths that show all the classic signs of vampire attacks. These have been going on for ages but... about three weeks ago, the deaths spiked.”

“Pietro ran away three weeks ago,” said Bruce.

“And this town is close enough to New York City that Pietro could have run there that night before the sun came up,” said Tony. “I’ve calculated it all out with his best speeds, he’d have made it with at least half an hour to go before dawn, even if he stopped along the way. Earlier today, one of the hunters looking into this case said she’s got the location of a vampire coven in town.”

“So you think Pietro joined up with them and is now a violent killer?” said Clint.

“It’s certainly looking like it.”

“Wait,” said Wanda. “You said this hunter knows where the coven is. She could go there and kill him.”

“She could, but she won’t,” said Tony.

“How do you know?”

“Because I told her I’m taking care of it.”

“How’d you swing that?” Sam said.

“A lot of these people get into the job because some kind of monster came after someone they love and now they’re in it for revenge,” said Tony. “So I made up some story about my nonexistent sister being murdered by a vampire from this coven. Told her that I wanted to be the one to clear them out. She believed me, and now the case is mine.”

“The rest of the coven will try to kill us,” said Wanda.

“So we’ll kill them first.”

“And what about Pietro?” said Clint grimly. “What if _he_ tries to kill us?”

The room fell silent. None of them wanted to think of that possibility. But Clint knew they had to. If Pietro had fully embraced his life as a vampire, he was now a bloodthirsty killer and there was no knowing whether he’d be able to stop himself just because they were his friends.And Clint knew that he would be in more danger than any of the others because of what he had done.

“Clint, I promise we’re going to do everything in our power to bring him home,” said Steve. “He’ll put up a fight, but nobody’s killing him, no matter how hard he tries to kill us.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to apologize in advance for the longer gaps between chapters that are gonna happen this week. i work in a kitchen store and it's the week of thanksgiving so i've got a lot of hours.


	15. pick a side

 

Three days. That’s how long Pietro had been locked in his room. So far, at least. No food, no contact from any of the coven, no explanation for why he was being held prisoner in his own home besides Lesandra’s disgust at him for loving a human. He was hungry and miserable and starting to suspect that they were attempting to starve him to death as punishment for his “crime”. 

The longer he sat there with his back against the wall, waiting for someone to let him out, the more he regretted ever leaving Avengers Tower. He knew he had done the right thing, that he had saved Clint’s life by leaving. But at least he knew the Avengers wouldn’t have locked him up for what he’d done to Clint if he’d stayed. They’d have tried to help him through it. But Lesandra wasn’t so forgiving. She didn’t care about him like his friends did, his family. Pietro had thought for a while that maybe she did, that she could be his new family, but after one little thing, she was willing to lock him away and let him die. And now he wanted nothing more than to go home – his _real_ home – even though he knew that after all he’d done, he never could.

 

The numbers on the clock switched from 4:29 to 4:30. It would be getting dark soon. If he wasn’t locked up, Pietro would be able to go out and hunt in just half an hour if he wanted to. And right now, he really really wanted to. It had been ages since he’d been so hungry, since before the Avengers and Hydra. Yet even then, his hunger had never been like this. Being a vampire made his hunger ravenous and desperate; the slightest whiff of blood would likely drive him mad with need.

Pietro closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, forcing himself to think about something else. Suddenly he heard a loud bang from downstairs and opened his eyes. He froze, listening, as the sounds of loud footsteps echoed through the house. Then there was a shout and a crash, and the unmistakable sounds of a fight. A wave of nausea swept over him that had nothing to do with hunger.

“Hunters,” he gasped.

Pietro got to his feet. The coven may have turned their backs on him, but he wasn’t about to let them all be slaughtered while he sat quietly in his room. He went across the room and turned to face the door, taking a few steadying breaths.

“This is gonna hurt like a bitch,” he muttered.

Then he took off at top speed and blasted straight through the door, splinters flying everywhere. The sounds of the fight downstairs were louder now without the door muffling them, but he couldn’t tell who was winning. Pietro took another deep breath, then ran downstairs. 

The fight seemed to be mostly confined to the conjoined living room and (unused) dining room, and as Pietro stood on the threshold, he could tell that the hunters were winning. There were no bodies on the floor, but he noticed several conspicuous absences among the coven. Just then, Pietro saw Jackson on his knees, a man standing over him with a wooden stake in his hand, ready to strike. 

Without a second thought, he ran forward and tackled the man. The stake flew from his hand and landed several feet away, but Pietro ignored it. He punched the man and the man hit back, shoving Pietro off him and scrambling to his feet. Pietro got up and punched the man with enough force to knock him back down to his knees, then grabbed the front of his shirt and raised his fist. Then he froze, eyes wide. It was Clint.

“Hi sweetheart,” Clint said with a small, sad smile.

Pietro stared, his fist still raised. 

“It’s okay,” said Clint. “Go ahead. Hit me. I can take it. God knows you’ve hurt me plenty worse before.”

“Clint...”

Slowly, Pietro lowered his hand and released him. 

“So,” said Jackson suddenly; Pietro turned and saw him glaring furiously at the pair of them. “This is him, isn’t it? The man you’re in love with. The _human_.”

Pietro didn’t say anything. The disgust in Jackson’s voice made it clear that he didn’t need an answer.

“You know, I don’t think locking you up was punishment enough for your sin,” said Jackson. “I think it’s time you got a proper punishment.”

He stepped forward and shoved Pietro aside as easily as swatting away a fly. Pietro flew backward and crashed into a table, smashing it beneath him. He disentangled himself from the wreckage just in time to see Jackson sink his teeth into Clint’s neck.

“NO!”

Pietro grabbed one of the broken table legs and got to his feet, then ran at Jackson and stabbed him in the back with it, piercing him through the heart. Jackson froze for a second, then vanished in a cloud of dust. Pietro tossed the table leg aside and dropped to his knees next to Clint. Jackson’s venom was beginning to kick in and Clint was trembling, gasping in pain.

“No no no, this can’t happen, you can’t do this,” Pietro begged desperately. “I can’t let you become like this, like me. I can’t let you be a monster.”

Clint screwed his eyes shut as another wave of agony hit him, and Pietro knew that the transformation was about to start. Suddenly Natasha was there, barely controlled panic painted across her face.

“What happened?” she asked.

“He got bit,” said Pietro.

“By you?”

“No...” Pietro paused, then looked at her. “Natasha, I know what I have to do to save him. I have to suck out the venom.”

Natasha stared at him.

“But Pietro, you could kill him,” she said.

“I know. That’s why I need you to stop me,” said Pietro. “I don’t have control any more. I won’t be able to stop myself. But I can’t let him become like me. I have to save him. So you have to stop me from going too far.”

“Okay,” said Natasha. “Do it.”

It was obvious she was scared, but she buried it for Clint’s sake. Pietro looked down at Clint.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m going to take the pain away.”

He bent down and closed his mouth over the bleeding puncture wounds and began to drink. Any blood after three days of starvation would have been bliss, but Clint’s blood... oh God, to taste Clint’s blood again was pure heaven. Pietro closed his eyes and drank thirstily, almost forgetting the reason he was drinking Clint’s blood at all. 

“Pietro,” Natasha said suddenly, but he ignored her. “Pietro, that’s enough. You have to stop.”

But he couldn’t. How could he stop when he was so hungry and such a feast was before him? Natasha grabbed him by the hair and pulled him away. Pietro stared at her breathlessly for a moment before snapping out of it.

“Thanks,” he said.

Then he turned to Clint, who was panting and obviously a bit disoriented, but still conscious and, miraculously, still human.

“Hey,” said Pietro, gently cupping Clint’s face in his hand. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Pietro...” Clint mumbled.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here. You found me.”

Suddenly, someone grabbed Pietro by the hair again, much rougher than Natasha had, and placed the tip of a wooden stake threateningly against his chest.

“You traitorous bastard,” Lesandra hissed in his ear. “You did this. Our entire coven is _dead_ because of you. And I saw what you did to Jackson. You saved his life and then you killed him. All for this pathetic human.”

“Let go of him!” 

Pietro looked up and saw Wanda standing behind Natasha, her eyes glowing red, ready to strike.

“Wanda, don’t,” said Pietro. “She won’t kill me.”

“You’re right, I won’t kill you,” said Lesandra. “You know me too well. I’m gonna make you suffer, though. Just you wait, Pietro. A reckoning is coming, and there’s nothing you and your little human friends can do to stop me.”

She shoved Pietro away and ran out of the house into the night.

“Should we go after her?” Wanda asked.

“No,” said Pietro. “Let her go. She just talks big.”

He looked around the room at the team, all looking rather battered and tired, but all alive. Then he turned back to Clint.

“He needs medical attention. We should get back to the tower,” he said.

He got to his feet and scooped Clint up into his arms as easily as lifting a child, then led the way outside.

 


	16. please trust me

 

Setting foot inside Avengers Tower again after all that had happened was strange. Pietro felt both out of place and perfectly, gut-wrenchingly at home. He had missed this place. It was his home after all. But he felt so wrong returning to the home of heroes when he had become a monster.

They went upstairs to the book-cluttered living room and Pietro helped Clint onto the couch. Helen came over and sat next to him to take care of his injury. Pietro stayed by his side just long enough to make sure he was being taken care of, then turned to the others.

“We have handcuffs, right?” he said.

“Yeah, why?” said Steve.

“Go get them.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Steve left the room and returned a few minutes later with a pair of handcuffs. Pietro took them and went over to the stairs that led from the living room up to Tony’s lab. He wrapped the chain around the lowest railing in the bannister, then locked the cuffs around his wrists.

“What are you doing?” Wanda said, looking alarmed.

“I’m a danger to all of you,” Pietro said. “I appreciate you guys coming to get me, I really do. But a lot has happened to me since I left. It’s not safe for me to be free around humans anymore.”

“Pietro...”

“Please don’t fight me on this. It’s better this way.”

“Then at least let us make you comfortable,” said Bucky. 

He went to one of the couches and pushed it over to Pietro. 

“There,” he said. “And if there’s anything else we can get you, just tell us.”

“Actually, I’m, uh... kinda hungry,” said Pietro. “I haven’t really eaten for three days.”

“There’s plenty of blood bags in my lab,” said Helen. “We can give him as many of those as he needs. Honestly, you should have just done that in the first place.”

Pietro glanced guiltily over at Clint, who looked rather ashamed himself.

“I’ll get it,” said Wanda.

She left the room, leaving the rest of them in awkward silence. Pietro sat down on the couch Bucky had brought him and waited, watching Clint. There was a longing ache in his chest and he wanted nothing more than to pull Clint into his arms and kiss him over and over. But he couldn’t; he was too scared of what he’d become, what he could do if he lost control for even a second. 

Wanda came back with a full mug, a straw sticking out of it. They stared awkwardly at each other for a moment as they both realized that Pietro couldn’t use his hands while they were chained to the stairs. Then Wanda sat next to him on the arm of the sofa and held the mug out to him. 

“Thanks,” Pietro said, giving her a half-smile.

Wanda smiled back in reply and ran her free hand through his hair while he drank.

 

***

 

The team had gone to bed, leaving Pietro alone in the living room with his thoughts. It was now the early hours of the morning, sometime between midnight and dawn. The tower was eerily silent, which meant that when the sound of softly approaching footsteps drifted down the hallway, Pietro heard it long before anyone arrived. He watched as the familiar silhouette grew closer and Clint shuffled into the living room.

“What are you doing here? You should be in bed,” said Pietro.

“I couldn’t sleep, thinking about you sitting out here all alone,” Clint replied.

“I’m fine, really. Get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Clint...”

“I know, I know, I should sleep. I’ve hardly slept for three weeks, I know I need it,” said Clint. “But... Pietro... those were the worst three weeks of my life. I missed you so much. I couldn’t spend another night in that bed without you.”

“I missed you too,” said Pietro. “But you know I have to stay here. I can’t risk spending the night in bed with you. The temptation would be too much.”

“But Pietro, the thing is... I _don’t_ know,” said Clint, coming to sit next to him on the sofa. “I don’t know what happened to you since you left. Why do you suddenly think you’re dangerous enough to chain to a staircase?”

“Because I am,” said Pietro. “I was with a coven, Clint. They taught me to hunt. I killed people. Innocent people. Lots of them. And the worst part is, I enjoyed it. I’d play with them, taunt them. I’d let them think they could get away, then block their path at the last second and kill them.”

“But that doesn’t mean you’d do that to me, or any of the team,” said Clint.

“I’ve got a taste for human blood now, and not just yours. I was tame before I left, but now I’m a real vampire, violence and all. Well,” Pietro chuckled bitterly. “Maybe not completely, according to the rest of the coven.”

“What do you mean?” Clint asked.

“They locked me up for three days because Lesandra found out I was in love with a human. With you. She said I was a disgusting traitor...”

“Wow. What a bigot,” said Clint.

“Clint, uh.... you should know,” said Pietro. “She was... well, I’m not sure she was in love with me... she may have just wanted to sleep with me... but, well... she kissed me.”

“Oh.”

Clint sounded nervous and a little hurt, but was clearly trying to hide it.

“That’s how she found out,” Pietro went on. “I pushed her away, told her that I love you. Then she locked me up. I just thought you should know.”

“Thanks for telling me,” said Clint. “Not just about that but... about everything.”

“Seriously? You’re thanking me for telling you that your boyfriend became a bloodthirsty monster?” Pietro said skeptically.

“You’re not a monster, Pietro,” said Clint. “But yeah, I’m thanking you for telling me. For being honest.”

“How can you possibly think I’m not a monster after what I told you?”

“Because you recognize what you did was bad. Have you ever heard of a monster who believed they were a monster?”

“Clint...”

“You’re not a monster.”

“You don’t know everything I’ve done. You don’t know how horrible I became.”

“I don’t care. You can’t convince me that you’re a monster. So please believe me when I say you aren’t one,” said Clint. “Please. Just trust me.”

Pietro stared at him for a long time.

“I do,” he said at last. “It’s me I don’t trust.”

“Well, I trust you,” said Clint. “Let that be enough for the both of us.”

“Trusting me is a really horrible idea.”

“I’ve had much worse.”

“Oh, I know.”

They both smiled a little, the possibility of laughter looming but never escaping. Ever so slowly, they moved closer until they were barely a breath apart. Pietro’s eyes drifted closed as their lips met. The kiss was tentative at first, both of them worried about pushing too far. They soon got more comfortable, the familiar home of each other’s lips drawing them in. But then they pulled apart, a sad sort of awkwardness between them that had never been there before. Things had changed and they knew it, but neither of them wanted to admit it.

“I should go to bed,” Clint said finally.

“Okay.”

He got up and started to leave.

“Clint?” Pietro said.

Clint stopped and turned back around.

“I _want_ to believe you, you know,” Pietro said. “I want to believe I’m not a monster. But I don’t have any proof that I’m not.”

“I do,” said Clint.

“Really?”

“You saved me. You could have let me become a vampire, but you didn’t,” said Clint. “I imagine the thought of just you and me for all eternity was pretty tempting. But you saved me.”

“I didn’t want you to become like me,” said Pietro. “I couldn’t let you become a monster.”

“Exactly,” Clint said. “You could’ve done the selfish thing. But you didn’t. That’s why you’re not a monster.”

Pietro stared at him in silence for a moment.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“I know it’s only one good thing in the sea of bad things that’s happened. But it’s a start,” said Clint. 

“I know.”

“Good night, Pietro.”

“Good night.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, so sorry for the long delay between updates, but work has taken over my life


	17. revertere anima

Clint woke up alone in bed the next morning, having slept better in those few short hours than he had for three weeks. Just the knowledge that Pietro was home, even if he was chained up in the living room and convinced he was a monster, had comforted Clint enough to let him sleep. But now for the hard part. It was time to make Pietro human again, no matter what it took.

Clint threw back the covers and got out of bed, getting ready for the day with so much purpose and conviction that you’d think he was going to storm a stronghold, not sit on the sofa and read. Once he was dressed, he went out to the kitchen and got himself breakfast and a mug of coffee, then went to join the others in the living room, giving Pietro a quick kiss on the head as he passed by.

 

The team chatted and joked as they worked, just like they always did. Several hours passed and Clint noticed Pietro starting to look irritated. Knowing Pietro, he figured it was probably just restlessness from being stuck in the same place for too long, so he brushed it off and kept working. But a few minutes later, Tony and Sam started laughing at some dumb joke and Pietro scoffed. 

“Everything alright over there?” Clint asked, ignoring the melodramatic eye-roll Pietro gave him in response.

“Oh yes, everything’s fine,” said Pietro sarcastically. “I don’t see why it should be a problem that everyone’s making jokes when they’re supposed to be trying to save my soul.”

Clint stared at him for a moment, the wheels turning in his head. Something had clicked, but he couldn’t place his finger on why.

“What do you mean, ‘save your soul’?” he said.

“Vampires don’t have souls, it’s why we can do such horrible shit and not give a damn,” Pietro replied. “I don’t know what happened to my soul, if it’s in hell or in some sort of limbo waiting for me to die properly so it can go to hell. I just know I haven’t got it anymore.”

“Pietro, you’re a genius,” said Clint, the pieces falling into place at last. 

“I am?” said Pietro.

“What is it?” Wanda asked.

“We’ve been going about this totally wrong.”

Clint sprang to his feet and started going through the piles of books with little regard for whatever organizational system the others had stacked them in, earning him a few protesting groans.

“What do you mean?” said Steve. “How else could we possibly go about this?”

“We’ve been doing this with the mindset of _curing_ Pietro,” said Clint. “But that’s not what we’re supposed to be doing at all. We have to try and save his soul.”

“And how does that change our approach?” said Tony skeptically.

“It changes it entirely. Cures are for diseases, Stark,” said Clint. “This ain’t a disease. It’s not something that needs fixing. It’s... well... okay, I don’t know what to call it...”

“It’s a rescue mission,” said Natasha. 

Clint looked at her and smiled.

“Yeah. That’s what it is.” He turned to Pietro. “I get to save _you_ for once, sweetheart. AndI think I’ve got a way to do it.”

“You do?” said Pietro.

Clint held up the book he’d been searching for.

“It’s right in here.”

He sat back down and flipped through the pages until he found the right one. 

“Revertere anima,” he read.

“Return the soul,” Natasha translated. 

“How did none of you think of that one before? That makes perfect sense,” said Pietro.

“We didn’t realize that you... y’know... didn’t have a soul,” said Sam.

“You’ve translated this from Latin, right Nat?” Clint said.

“I translated all of it, that one’s bound to be in my notes somewhere,” Natasha replied. 

“What happens now?” Pietro asked.

“We start hunting down the things we need to pull this shit off.”

 


	18. saints just swimming in our sins again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Twin Skeletons (Hotel In NYC)" by Fall Out Boy

 

The rest of the day was spent finding out all they could about Revertere Anima and starting to figure out where they could find the ingredients for the ritual. Pietro just sat on his couch listening, watching Clint with a fond, proud smile. Clint may be a walking trainwreck, constantly getting himself into trouble and doing stupid things, but he could be so incredibly smart when it really mattered. It was one of the things Pietro loved so much about him, and it meant the world to him that Clint had not only figured this out, but thought Pietro’s soul was capable and worthy of being saved.

Night fell and the Avengers drifted off one by one to bed, leaving Pietro alone in the living room once again. He looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the twinkling city lights and tried not to let himself get dragged too deep into his thoughts. He knew it wasn’t pretty in there and he wanted to try and preserve the good mood Clint’s epiphany had given him for as long as possible.

He had only been alone for about an hour before he heard footsteps in the hall and a moment later, Clint walked into the room.

“You do know that if you don’t sleep, your body will eventually just stop working and you’ll die, right?” Pietro said.

“Hey, I sleep some,” said Clint, coming to sit next to him.

“When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

“Um.... that’s.... well.... it wasn’t _that_ long ago... oh, I know... no wait... actually...”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I didn’t come out here to get lectured about my sleep schedule,” said Clint.

“You haven’t slept the whole night through since before I became a vampire,” said Pietro. “That’s three months of little to no sleep.”

“Hey, college students manage it for four years.”

“Yeah well, you’re not nineteen anymore.”

“No I’m not. But like I said, I didn’t come out here to get lectured.”

“Then why did you come out here?”

“Because I love you.”

“You don’t have to deprive yourself of sleep to tell me that,” said Pietro.

“You are insufferable,” Clint said exasperatedly.

“Sorry, I’ll stop.”

“No you won’t.”

“I promise, I’ll stop scolding you,” Pietro said. “Tell me why you came to see me.”

“I told you, because I love you,” said Clint.

“And why else?”

“I miss you.”

“I’m here now.”

“I know,” said Clint. “But we don’t have time alone together. You’re chained up out here, and the team’s hanging around all day and.... I miss being with you. Just the two of us. The bed feels so empty without you in it. _I_ feel so empty.”

Pietro watched him sadly. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I miss you too. I just... I don’t want to risk hurting you. Not again.”

“You never hurt me, Pietro,” said Clint. “Everything that happened before was my responsibility. I brought it all on myself.”

“Clint...”

“Please don’t blame yourself, Pietro. You were the stronger of the two of us when you left.”

“I don’t feel strong,” said Pietro. “I feel weak for giving into being a monster.”

“You were strong because you knew we had to stop what we were doing, and I just kept bullheadedly refusing,” said Clint. “You were strong because you did what you had to to survive. I didn’t even try to survive. I gave up after you left. I was weak.”

“You could never be weak, Clint. Trust me, there is no way on earth you could ever be weak.”

“You sure about that?”

“The only thing I’m more sure of is that I love you.”

There were tears in Clint’s eyes, but he was smiling. He took Pietro’s face in his hands and kissed him so tenderly and passionately that all the cold of being a vampire seemed to melt away and Pietro almost felt human again. He tried to wrap his arms around Clint, forgetting for a moment that his hands were cuffed to the staircase. The clink of metal and Pietro’s disappointed sigh broke the moment and they pulled apart.

“I’m taking those off,” said Clint.

“What?!”

“Just for a little while.”

“Clint-”

“I trust you. Seriously. If you were gonna try to kill me, those handcuffs wouldn’t stop you. I’m taking them off.”

Pietro bit his lip nervously. He wanted so badly to be able to hold Clint in his arms, but he was just so scared.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“One hundred percent.”

“Okay. But they’re going right back on when you go to bed,” said Pietro.

Clint grinned and went to get the key from the coffee table, then came back and unlocked the handcuffs. The moment he was free, Pietro pulled Clint into his arms and kissed him, holding him as though the world was ending. When at last they broke apart, Clint gave him a smirk.

“Told you,” he said.

“Shut up and take your clothes off,” Pietro said breathlessly.

“Only if you take off yours,” said Clint.

“Oh, I was planning on it.”

Pietro took off his jacket and unbuckled his belt. Clint got up and pulled off his sweatpants, but Pietro was too impatient to wait any longer. He sprang up off the sofa and pounced on Clint, slamming him into the wall. Clint’s grunt at the impact was muffled by another kiss, rough and a little sloppy, but filled with need. Then Pietro pulled away.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

He ran from the room and was back within seconds with a bottle of lube. He cornered Clint again and gave him another quick kiss.

“Face the wall,” he ordered, his voice a low growl.

Clint grinned, kissing Pietro one last time before obeying. Pietro unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down over his hips, then popped open the bottle of lube. Once they were both ready, he placed his hands on Clint’s hips and gently slid into him. Clint moaned softly, his hands balling into fists against the wall. Pietro smiled and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, then started to move, slowly at first for fear of hurting him, but gradually getting faster and rougher with Clint’s urging.

“I want to kiss you,” Clint said suddenly.

“As you wish,” Pietro whispered in his ear.

He pulled out and turned Clint around, crushing his mouth in a kiss. He lifted Clint up against the wall and Clint wrapped his legs around Pietro’s waist. Pietro broke the kiss and in a second they were across the room. Pietro lay Clint down on the pool table and thrust himself back inside. He ran his hands over Clint’s thighs, feeling the goosebumps that raised on his skin from the touch of Pietro’s cold fingers. Clint groaned and bit his lip, trying not to be too loud so they wouldn’t wake anyone. 

They had never been this rough before, especially not since Pietro had become a vampire, but God did it feel good. It was raw and desperate and full of primal need and Pietro wanted it to never end.

When at last they both reached their climax, Pietro staggered back and sank to the floor, leaving Clint still panting on the pool table. His head was reeling from his orgasm and the sudden overwhelming thirst that had come with it. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily, trying to keep himself under control. 

“Are you okay?”

Pietro opened his eyes again and looked up. Clint was sitting on the edge of the pool table, sweaty and flushed, watching him with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Pietro. “You should probably re-cuff me though.”

“You’re feeling a strong urge to eat me right now, aren’t you?” said Clint.

“....Yeah....”

Clint sighed and got up, then went to put his pants back on. He picked up the handcuffs and Pietro got to his feet and followed him back to the sofa by the stairs, rebuttoning his jeans as he went. He sat down and let Clint chain him to the railing.

“Do you need anything?” Clint asked.

“Something to eat would be nice,” said Pietro.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Clint kissed the top of his head and left the room. Pietro watched him go, noticing the slight limp in his walk and smirking in satisfaction. A few minutes later, Clint returned with a mug full of blood. He sat down next to Pietro and held out the mug for him. Pietro smiled gratefully at him and began to drink. When he was finished, he sighed, the need to kill gone.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I kind of ruined the moment.”

“It’s okay,” said Clint. “There wasn’t anything you could do about it, it just happened.”

“I know. I wasn’t really expecting it...”

“Maybe next time we should use those handcuffs to our advantage,” Clint suggested, elbowing him playfully.

Pietro chuckled, then looked away sadly.

“I don’t know if there should be a next time, not until I’m human again,” he said. “Like you said, if I really wanted to get to you, the handcuffs wouldn’t stop me. I don’t want to hurt you because I can’t control myself. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right,” Clint sighed. “We’ve known it was risky having sex while you’re a vampire this whole time. Better not push our luck. Though at least now we know it’s not your super vampire strength we had to worry about.”

Pietro grinned.

“Once I’m human again and don’t have to worry about wanting to kill you afterward, we will have an entire night of filthy rough sex,” he said. “Deal?”

Clint laughed and leaned in to kiss him.

“Deal.”

 


	19. risks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been so long since i updated, work has been kicking my ass. but the holidays are almost over so soon i will be a lot less busy. (also sorry this chapter is so short, it's just a filler/transitional chapter. the action's picking back up next chapter)

 

Clint woke up the next morning still sprawled on top of the covers in the same place he had landed when he’d thrown himself exhaustedly into bed four hours earlier. His whole body was sore in that pleasant, satisfying way you’d normally get after a good workout, and as he walked to the bathroom to shower, he was very aware of the distinctive limp that he knew would give him away to the rest of the team the second they saw him.

Once he was showered and dressed, he went to get breakfast from the kitchen, then joined the others in the living room. Only Tony gave him a suggestive smirk and Clint was so surprised by the others’ lack of reactions that he stopped and stared at them.

“You know, if you’re gonna try and hide the fact that you fucked your vampire boyfriend last night, you should probably cover your tracks better,” said Sam in a monotone.

“Wha-”

“Pietro forgot to put his jacket back on before you cuffed him to the stairs,” said Wanda.

“Sorry,” Pietro called from the sofa.

“You also left the lube under the pool table,” said Bucky.

“So the fact that you’re walking funny is the complete opposite of surprising,” Steve said.

“Also, did you really have to do it on the pool table?” Tony complained. “Like, seriously. I’m never gonna be able to play pool again without having that mental image forced upon me.”

“Why the hell would you even be imagining that?” said Pietro.

“It’s not like I’d do it on purpose.”

“Clint, sit down before your cereal gets any soggier,” said Natasha, interrupting the conversation before it could get worse.

Clint sat next to Natasha, his face hot, and started shoveling spoonfuls of limp cornflakes into his mouth. 

“So, where are we at with the spell thing?” he asked.

“Bruce is out talking to an acquaintance of his about some of the ingredients, but that’s about as far as we’ve got,” said Sam.

“That’s better than nothing,” said Clint. “D’you think he’ll be able to get the stuff from this acquaintance?”

“From the sound of it, yeah,” said Natasha.

 

About an hour later, Bruce came back, dropped a plastic grocery bag onto the coffee table, and flopped onto the sofa next to Tony.

“You got it?” Steve asked.

“Not as much as I hoped,” said Bruce. “He didn’t have everything I thought he would. Just as well, though. I ran out of cash.”

“This sounds like a fucking drug deal,” said Clint.

“Honestly, it kinda was one,” said Bruce. 

“So what about the rest of the stuff?” Pietro asked.

“I’ve got someone I could call,” said Natasha. “Not sure how much good it’ll do, but we might be able to get one or two things outta him.”

 

By the end of the day, they were a few ingredients closer to the cure. The team split ways for the night, and Clint kissed Pietro goodnight before heading off to bed. He was nearly to his room when Wanda caught up to him.

“Clint, can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked.

“Of course, what’s up?” said Clint.

“Well, it’s... I suppose it’s a little awkward, but...” Wanda said. “I know everyone was joking about it this morning, but... I’m not sure it was the smartest idea, having sex with Pietro last night. He’s my brother and I trust him, but he’s still a vampire and we all know the weakness he has for your blood. It was risky being that intimate.”

“I know,” said Clint. “There was... a moment last night.... after we finished, he... he had a moment when the vampire part of him wanted to kill me. I cuffed him up again and got him something to eat, but... well, we agreed we shouldn’t do it again until he’s human. He was able to control it long enough this time, but we know there’s no guarantee that he could do that again. He’s not.... I don’t know how else to put it... but he’s not a _tame_ vampire anymore. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to be around all of us all day....”

Wanda sighed heavily.

“The sooner we get him this cure, the better,” she said. “Just promise you and Pietro will be careful until we do.”

“I promise.”

“Good,” said Wanda. “Because if he were to accidentally hurt you, I don’t think he’d be able to live with himself.”

She stood on tiptoe and kissed Clint’s cheek.

“Good night,” she said, then turned and left.

Clint watched her disappear down the hallway, then went into his room and shut the door.


	20. purifying fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry i haven't updated this fic in so long. holiday work hours busted my ass and then i got a bit sidetracked with several other fic projects. but now i'm back to this one and i'm gonna focus on it 'til it's done!

It took a week for them to track down all the ingredients they needed for the cure. Pietro was getting impatient, and spending all his time chained to a staircase wasn’t helping. There was too much energy built up inside him and it was making him antsy and irritable. He tried not to take it out on the others, but he had never been very good at internalizing his bad moods, and found himself spending half his time apologizing for being an asshole. Everyone was trying to be understanding, but is was pretty obvious that their patience was wearing thin. The sooner he took this damn cure, the better for everyone. 

At last the day came. They had everything they needed, Wanda and Sam had mixed up the concoction and poured it into a mason jar for travel. The spellbook said the potion had to be taken in the same place the vampire was turned, at midnight, so the team was preparing the quinjet for the flight back to that little town in Georgia. 

“Looks like we’re going back to fucking creepy graveyard,” Clint said.

“Shit, you don’t think the vampire that bit Pietro’s still there, do you?” said Bucky.

“If he is, I’ll rip his throat out,” said Pietro, sitting down and letting Clint cuff him to the armrest.

“Yeah, about that, let’s stick to staking. Okay, sweetheart?” said Clint.

“You just wanna suck the fun out of everything.”

“Because murder’s a real hoot,” said Tony. “Everybody ready?”

 

About half an hour before midnight, they had landed the quinjet outside town. It had been decided that Clint, Wanda, Natasha, Steve, and Bucky were to accompany Pietro to the graveyard while the rest of the team stayed behind and kept the quinjet ready in case they needed to get out in a hurry. They had no idea what this cure would do to Pietro besides make him human again, and though no one would dare suggest it, the mood as they left the jet felt rather like he was being escorted to the gallows.

And if the cure did kill him? Well, at least they’d tried. All Pietro wanted was to be free of this, to be human again. He was willing to die trying. Of course, he’d rather not die, but if it came to that, he would be okay with it. He’d made peace with that possibility, though he would never admit it to anyone, especially not Clint or Wanda.

They reached the graveyard ten minutes before midnight, found the crypt where Pietro had been bitten, and waited. None of them spoke. At last, the unsettling silence was broken by the alarm on Natasha’s phone going off – it was midnight.

“Here we go,” said Clint.

He took out a key and took off Pietro’s handcuffs. Wanda stepped forward with the potion and unscrewed the cap. 

“You ready?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah...” Pietro said. “Hang on.”

He turned to Clint and kissed him, hard and desperate, but brief. He knew the window for taking the cure was short. He pulled away and stared intensely into Clint’s eyes.

“Just in case,” he murmured.

“Pietro...” Clint said.

Pietro turned back to Wanda and took the jar, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Then he drank. It tasted horrible and his immediate instinct was to spit it right back out, but he knew he had to drink it all for the cure to work so he forced it down. At last he finished and lowered the jar with a grimace.

“How do you feel?” Wanda asked anxiously.

“Like gagging, honestly,” said Pietro. “That stuff tasted like sh-”

He stopped as a sudden wave of nausea washed over him. 

“Pietro?” said Steve.

“I’m fine, I-”

Pietro suddenly doubled over, unsure whether he was about to vomit or scream in pain. It felt like his insides were being torn apart. The jar slipped from his hand and shattered.

“Pietro!” Clint gasped, rushing forward.

“Get back, I don’t want to hurt you!” Pietro said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Pietro, it’s okay,” said Clint.

“Yes I am. I can’t control it,” Pietro said. “I can’t... it... it’s fighting back. It doesn’t want me to change.”

He backed away from Clint until his back was against the wall of the crypt, then sank to his knees. The pain was growing and with it came something feral and untamable, something murderous. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands, clutching fistfuls of hair. Suddenly through the pain he sensed someone in front of him and caught a whiff of a very familiar and tantalizing scent. 

“Pietro?”

He looked up and found Clint kneeling in front of him, watching him nervously, while the others hovered just a little bit behind him, poised to drag him away if Pietro attacked. 

“Clint please, I can’t...” 

“It’s okay,” said Clint. “You’re gonna be okay. You can fight this, I know you can.”

“No I can’t, I can’t, it’s too strong,” said Pietro.

The pain was almost overwhelming now and it was taking all his strength not to lunge at Clint’s throat and drain him dry. Then suddenly something seemed to break inside of him and the urge to kill fell away, replaced by a scorching pain, like he was being burned by a white-hot fire. The burning feeling seemed to be filling him up, surging out from his chest and through his body like blood in his veins. But though it was absolute agony, he didn’t feel the need to cry out. There was something different about this pain, something pure. It was as though the cold, violent person he had become as a vampire was being burned away, and something warm and familiar and wholly good was filling its place. 

Even through the pain, he recognized what it was – it was his soul returning to him. As its light coursed back into his body, it caught on the raw, torn edges of who he’d become and it stung, but it was like pouring ointment over a wound. It hurt for now, it hurt like hell, but in time it would heal. Then slowly the pain started to fade out and as it did, he realized that he was crying, sobbing as though the entire world had shattered and his heart along with it. He collapsed into Clint’s arms and clung to him as though his life depended on it. He felt Clint wrap his arms around him and it felt achingly like home.

“Did it work?” Bucky said tentatively.

“Let’s find out,” said Clint. He ran a hand through Pietro’s hair and leaned down to murmur gently in his ear. “Hey baby, it’s okay, it’s over now. Can you sit up and look at me?”

Pietro took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, then slowly pushed himself up. Clint broke out in a smile the moment their gazes met.

“I’ve missed those pretty blue eyes of yours,” he said.

Pietro sniffled and smiled weakly back. Clint reached out and cupped his cheek in his hand, wiping away the tear tracks. Then Wanda was by his side and Pietro leaned into her embrace.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“I’m cold,” said Pietro. “And tired.”

Clint immediately took off his jacket and wrapped it around Pietro’s shoulders.

“C’mon, let’s get back to the jet,” said Natasha, smiling at their success. 

Pietro dried his eyes on his sleeve and pulled Clint’s jacket closer around him, then let Clint and Wanda help him to his feet. He leaned against Clint as they walked back through town. The rest of the team stood up as they boarded the jet.

“It worked?” Bruce said.

Pietro nodded.

“Yes!” said Tony jubilantly, punching the air. 

“Let’s head back home,” said Steve. “It’s been a long night and the poor kid’s practically sleepwalking.”

“And crank up the heat,” Clint added. “He’s freezing.”

Pietro sat down next to Clint and curled up against him, relishing his warmth. He closed his eyes as Clint wrapped an arm around him. The jet lifted off and they started the flight home. Pietro was exhausted and his body ached, but he felt so alive and _human_. He smiled a little and lay down to rest his head in Clint’s lap. It was mere minutes before he drifted off to sleep.


	21. working through it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok once again i am so sorry about how long it took me to update. writers block + lack of motivation + cramming for comic con + being sick = absolutely zero work on fanfics. but i'm BACK for reals this time and i'm gonna finish this damn fic asap.

When Pietro woke up, he was in his and Clint’s bed at Avengers Tower. The sunlight shining through the windows was blinding, but the beams that fell across his face didn’t burn, they were simply pleasantly warm. He smiled and rolled over to look at the clock: it was nearly one in the afternoon. Yawning, Pietro got out of bed and went to take a shower. As he dried off afterwards, he stopped in front of the mirror. He looked as tired as he still felt despite sleeping for twelve hours straight, but other than that, there wasn’t a hint of vampire about him. His face, while naturally pale, had regained a rosy tinge and his eyes were once again bluer than the sky.

Once he was dressed, he went out to the kitchen. He was starving – if he was going to be technical about it, he hadn’t eaten properly in nearly four months. Clint and Natasha were in the kitchen when he got there, sitting on the counter and eating sandwiches. They looked up when Pietro entered the room, and Clint grinned, bounding off the counter to come greet him.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he said, pulling him into a hug.

“I’d hardly consider it morning,” Pietro teased.

“Whatever. You earned that sleep,” said Clint. “How are you feeling?”

“Still kinda tired. But right now I’m mostly hungry.”

“I figured you would be, so I made you a sandwich!” Clint said.

He opened up the fridge and presented Pietro with a sandwich, smiling as though making him lunch was his proudest achievement. Pietro smiled back and took the plate.

“Thanks, Clint,” he said.

“Come on, pull up some counter,” said Natasha, waving a hand at the open space next to her.

Pietro took Clint’s hand and followed him over to sit down. He leaned casually against Clint and began to eat. He swallowed the first bite and frowned at the sandwich in his hand.

“Is something wrong?” Clint asked. “I knew I should’ve used blackberry jam…”

“No, the sandwich is great,” said Pietro. “I just… y’know when you’ve been sick for a while and you’re finally able to eat properly again, but you still feel like you might throw up if you try and eat more than three bites of toast?”

“Yeah.”

“That's sort of what I’m feeling right now.”

“Makes sense. You haven’t eaten real food in months,” said Natasha. “Your body’s not used to it.”

“My body’s not used to a lot of things right now.”

“That’s okay,” said Clint. “Eat as slow as you need, babe.”

He ran a hand through Pietro’s hair and pressed a fleeting kiss to his temple. Pietro half-smiled at him, then took another bite of his sandwich, resting his head on Clint’s shoulder.

 

What was left of the day passed by quietly and uneventfully. Hungry as he was, Pietro continued having trouble eating more than a little bit at a time, so he spent the afternoon nibbling at whatever food Clint had most recently offered him. Clint seemed dead set on taking care of him, which was endearing for now but would no doubt become smothering before the end of the week.

Night fell and Pietro found himself feeling tired considerably earlier than he expected, especially considering how late he’d slept in. He was sitting in the living room with a few of the others, leaning on Clint’s shoulder and trying not to nod off.

“Why don’t you go to bed?” Sam said as Pietro stifled yet another yawn.

“It’s not even ten.”

“So? You’re exhausted, get some sleep.”

“Time’s an illusion, Pietro, sleep whenever you damn well please,” said Tony, walking into the room with a fresh cup of coffee.

“Don’t listen to him,” said Sam. 

“But also do listen to him,” said Clint. “For now. Go to bed.”

Pietro smiled sleepily and kissed him on the cheek, then got up.

“I’ll join you in a little while, okay?” Clint said.

“Okay,” said Pietro. “I’ll probably be too dead asleep to notice. But okay.”

He left and went to his bedroom, got undressed, and climbed into bed. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling – he could just make out the pinprick holes he had left there throwing darts. That felt like a whole other lifetime. He rolled over to face the window, watching as the tiny, distant light of an airplane blinked its way across the night sky. 

Now that he was in bed, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep. It didn’t make sense. He was exhausted. Five minutes ago he could barely keep his eyes open. But now he couldn’t sleep, no matter how desperately he needed it. He turned away from the window and closed his eyes tight, trying to relax his body. After what felt like ages, it finally seemed to be working. The sounds of the waking world slowly faded and a peaceful darkness had just begun to take him when he was suddenly jolted awake, distant screams echoing in his ears.

Panting, Pietro propped himself up on his elbows and listened for the screams again, or for any sign of a struggle. But the night was peaceful. 

_Oh. Of course._

He fell back onto his pillow and sighed heavily. The screaming had been in his head. He had dreamt it. He bit his bottom lip and stared up at the ceiling again as he waited for his heart rate to slow back down. He knew where he’d heard those screams before. They were very distinctive. Desperation turned to pain that slowly melted into pleading whimpers and silence. Those were the sounds made by every person he’d made his prey while he was with the coven.

Just then, the door opened and Clint stepped inside. Pietro didn’t acknowledge him as he quietly moved around the room getting ready for bed, clearly trying to be as silent as possible. It wasn’t until Clint had slipped into bed next to him that he finally spoke.

“Hey.”

Clint jumped in alarm, then groaned exasperatedly.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me! I thought you were asleep,” he said.

“Sorry,” said Pietro.

“Why are you still awake?”

“I can’t fall asleep.”

“But you’re exhausted,” said Clint.

“I know.”

“More ex-vampire side effects?”

“I guess.”

Pietro paused a moment, considering, before he went on.

“I did start to drift off a little bit before you came in…”

“Oh, sorry, did I wake you up?” 

“No,” said Pietro. “I had, uh… well, I dunno if I’d call it a dream, but… well, I heard… screams.”

“Screams?” Clint repeated.

Pietro nodded.

“What kind of screams?”

“It was… it was the people I killed,” Pietro murmured. “When I was a vampire. When I went bad.”

“How do you know?”

“I could tell.”

They both fell silent. Pietro knew that Clint was scrambling to come up with something positive or comforting to say, some way to make it better.

“Look, Clint,” he said. “This whole situation has fucked me up more than even I know yet. There’s some things you can help me with, but… you’re not gonna be able to fix everything. I think this is one of those things.”

“But…”

“I’m serious. The stuff I’ve been through, the stuff I’ve done… you can’t make it go away.I’m stuck with it and whatever nightmares I get because of it.”

Clint sighed and scooted closer, pulling Pietro toward him. Pietro wrapped his arm around Clint’s waist.

“Okay, so maybe I can’t fix this,” said Clint. “But if you’re gonna have nightmares, I’m gonna be right here to make you feel better afterwards.”

Pietro smiled and buried his face in Clint’s chest, grateful, and so happy he no longer had to be afraid to hold Clint close.

“Thank you,” he whispered, closing his eyes.


	22. hunted

Three weeks had passed since Pietro was cured. He was still readjusting to being human, but he had made a lot of progress. Mostly he was having trouble sleeping for more than a few hours at a time, so he’d taken to staying up absurdly late.

It was after midnight on a Saturday and he and Clint were cuddling on the sofa having a _Star Wars_ marathon. They were on their second bowl of popcorn and fourth round of beer and had just started _Return of the Jedi_ when Pietro’s phone rang.

“Want me to pause it?” Clint asked.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Pietro picked up his phone and checked the caller ID – it was Wanda. He hit accept.

“Hey, what’s up? Did you and Nat get too drunk to call a cab or something?” he teased.

“No, we’re at the hospital,” said Wanda.

“What?!”

“We were attacked. We’re not too badly hurt but Natasha might have a concussion.”

“What happened?” Pietro asked.

“It was her. That vampire who threatened you when we got you from the coven,” said Wanda. 

“Lesandra.”

“Yeah. She’s here in New York. I think she figured out who you really are.”

“And now she’s getting revenge for you guys staking the whole coven…” Pietro sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Do you want me and Clint to come pick you guys up?”

“Yes, thanks,” said Wanda. “We _are_ kinda drunk too…”

“Well that explains how Natasha fucking Romanoff got a concussion,” said Pietro. “We’ll be there in a bit.”

“Thanks.”

Pietro hung up.

“Is everything okay?” Clint asked.

“Not really. Lesandra’s shown up, she attacked Wanda and Nat.”

“What?!”

“They’ll be fine. Unlike you, they can still kick ass drunk,” said Pietro. “But they need us to pick them up at the hospital.”

“Well, Han, looks like you’re gonna be frozen in carbonite for a little while longer,” said Clint. 

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the hospital. Wanda and Natasha were waiting for them in the lobby. Neither seemed to be particularly hurt – Wanda had a split lip and Natasha was holding an icepack to her temple, but otherwise they had gotten away unscathed. As Pietro and Clint approached, Wanda stood up to greet them. Pietro went to her and pulled her into a hug.

“You guys both okay?” Pietro asked.

“Yeah,” said Wanda.

“I mean, my head hurts and I’ve puked twice in the last forty-five minutes,” said Natasha.

“That’ll teach you to get concussed while drunk,” Clint teased.

“Hey, we were attacked by a vampire, gimme a break.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have to talk to the others about this, aren’t we?” said Pietro.

“You bet your ass,” said Natasha. 

“Can we go now?” Wanda said. “I really need to lie down.”

 

When they got home, they were greeted by Tony, who was in the kitchen making a sandwich.

“Where’ve you been? I thought you nerds were having a _Star Wars_ marathon,” he said.

“There was an incident,” said Clint.

“Do you know who all’s still up?” Pietro asked.

“We’re a team of night owls and insomniacs and it’s not even one in the morning, _everybody’s_ still up,” said Tony. 

“FRIDAY, can you call everyone down here?” Pietro said.

“Yes, sir.”

“Can’t this wait until morning?” Wanda sighed.

“Go sit on the couch, I’ll get you some water.”

“Pietro, seriously, it can’t wait?” said Clint. “Nat’s got a concussion…”

“No, it can’t wait,” said Pietro, a bit harsher than he intended. “A murderous vampire is in town and wants to kill or turn every single person in this building and she just attacked my sister. I’d wake up the entire team myself to warn them tonight.”

“Fair enough.”

“I’ve still got a concussion,” said Natasha.

“Go sit with Wanda on the couch,” said Pietro.

“Y’know, you being all bossy and protective is kinda hot,” Clint said.

Pietro gave him a scathing look.

“Even your bitchy glaring is hot.”

“Clint, I swear to god…”

Just then, Sam arrived, wearing pajamas and looking rather grumpy.

“I literally was just getting into bed, so this better be important,” he said.

“It is,” Pietro assured him.

“I thought you were bringing us water, brother,” Wanda called from the living room.

“Right, sorry.”

Pietro went into the kitchen and got Wanda and Natasha water, then joined them on the couch and waited as the rest of the team gradually arrived. Finally, they were just left waiting on Steve and Bucky.

“Where the hell are they?” Pietro said impatiently.

“Screwing, probably,” said Natasha.

“Look, it’s not like the vampire lady is gonna burst in here if you don’t tell everyone in the next five minutes,” said Clint. “So chill, babe.”

“What’s this about a vampire lady?” Bruce asked. “I thought we were done with vampires.”

“So did I, but my brother had to go and piss one off,” said Wanda, her voice muffled from lying face down on the sofa.

“Hey, I didn’t kill the whole coven, you guys did that,” said Pietro. “But yeah, I did piss her off and now we’re in trouble.”

At last Steve and Bucky arrived, both looking distinctly tussled.

“Sorry, we were, um… busy,” said Steve, sitting down. “What’s going on?”

Natasha gave Pietro a “told you so” look, but he just rolled his eyes and ignored her.

“We’re in trouble,” Pietro said. “Everyone’s in danger, or at least until I’m dead, I reckon.”

“Has someone ordered a hit on you or something?” Bucky asked.

“Not quite. When I ran away, I joined a vampire coven. But you already know about that. Anyway, there was this woman, she’s the one who… recruited me, I guess. We were friends, then she found out I fraternized with humans and locked me up,” Pietro explained. “That would’ve been enough to make her hate me, but then you all decided to show up and stake the entire coven, and now she hates all of you too. And she’s figured out we’re the Avengers and now she’s in New York to hunt us down.”

“How do you know?” Pepper asked, eyes wide.

Wanda and Natasha both wearily raised their hands in reply.

“She attacked you?!” said Rhodey. “Are you okay?”

“My head is throbbing, but yeah, thanks,” said Natasha. “Can I go now?”

“No!” said Pietro. “We have to come up with a strategy to stop her!”

Clint groaned.

“It’s one in the morning.”

“So? Who even sleeps anyway?”

“Uh, everyone.”

“Look, how’s this,” said Tony. “I’ll be up for a while, I’ll double security on the tower and set some of the Iron Legion as sentries. I don’t see how a single rogue vampire would get past even our regular security, but you’re obviously a bit jumpy about this.”

“With good reason.”

“Anyway,” Tony went on. “We’ll be perfectly safe in the tower, everyone can sleep. We’ll figure out how to stop her tomorrow. Okay?”

“Fine,” said Pietro with a bit of a defeated sigh. 

Tony was right, of course. There was no way Lesandra could get into Avengers Tower on her own, even without extra security. But still, Pietro wasn’t sure how patient he could be when they were all being hunted by a bloodthirsty monster bent on revenge.


	23. what needs to be done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again i apologize for the long hiatus. we're just a few chapters from the end now tho and i've had a burst of inspiration so you shouldn't have to wait long anymore for the rest!

 

Pietro hadn’t slept well last night. Clint could tell. He hadn’t slept that well himself. It was no surprise, really. Pietro probably blamed himself for Wanda and Natasha getting attacked, and Clint knew that even the tiniest reminder of his time with the coven usually sent Pietro on a downward spiral of moodiness and sleepless nights. So this vampire showing up… well, it didn’t bode well for Pietro’s mood for several days at least.

Clint sat fully-dressed on the edge of the bed, waiting for Pietro to finish in the shower. After a while, Pietro came out, a towel wrapped around his waist, and started getting dressed. Clint just watched him silently for a few minutes, then cleared his throat.

“I know you didn’t sleep so good last night,” he said.

Pietro paused and looked over at him.

“Yeah, well, my sister was attacked by a vampire. What do you expect?” he said.

He pulled a t-shirt over his head, then turned his back on Clint as he dug through the closet for a jacket.

“You know she can’t get to us in here,” said Clint. “We were all safe last night.”

“I know. That’s not why I couldn’t sleep.”

“Then what was it?”

Pietro pretended to be deciding between two jackets so he wouldn’t have to answer right away. 

“Sweetheart…” Clint prompted.

Pietro sighed and pulled the jacket roughly from the hanger, then tossed it onto the bed and sat down next to Clint.

“She’s gonna get to me eventually, Clint,” he said quietly. “There’s no escaping that. When Lesandra makes someone her prey, she gets them. But I’m not afraid of her killing me. If she’s gonna win, I’d rather she killed me than the alternative.”

“You’re scared she’s gonna turn you back into a vampire?” Clint said.

Admittedly, now Pietro brought it up, Clint was rather scared of that too.

“Yeah. After everything you guys put into getting me back… I don’t think I could live with being that monster again.”

“You won’t have to, Pietro,” said Clint. “I won’t let that happen. We’ll stop her. I’ll kill her myself and die trying before I let her turn you again.”

Pietro smiled gratefully, then smirked.

“Don’t you mean ‘or’?” he said.

“What?”

“Don’t you mean ‘ _or_ die trying’?”

Clint scowled.

“You know what, Maximoff?” he said. “I’m trying to make you feel better, I’m offering to risk my life for you, and _this_ is how you repay me?”

Pietro snickered.

“You know you love me.”

“Yeah, I do. God help me.”

Clint smiled at him.

“I love you too,” said Pietro. “So I’d rather you didn’t die.”

“I’d rather not die either,” said Clint. “But I’m willing to. For you.”

 

A week went by with no further sign of Lesandra. They all knew it was highly likely she was just lying in wait for one of them to show themselves outside the tower, but still, Clint found himself lulled into what he knew was a false sense of security, and several of the others seemed to be feeling the same way. Even Pietro’s initial paranoia had worn down. Then one morning over breakfast, Sam made the mistake of turning on the news.

Clint was already sitting at the table, about halfway through his second cup of coffee. The news anchor had just finished up a story about some five car wreck in Queens as Pietro sat down beside him with a massive stack of toast to share. Clint wasn’t really listening to the TV, focusing instead on his breakfast. 

“– four young New Yorkers between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five have gone missing in the last few days,” the anchor announced.

Clint looked up from his toast.

“A fifth man, Tyler Jackson, was found dead in the early hours of this morning,” the man continued. “No news yet of his cause of death, or whether it is in fact connected to the similar disappearances.”

“Shit,” Sam muttered.

“It’s her. It’s Lesandra,” said Pietro.

He had gone pale and looked a bit like he might throw up.

“Yeah…” said Clint grimly.

“Those other four… she’s probably changed them,” said Pietro. “She’s building an army to come get us.”

“I’d say you’re being paranoid, but chances are you’re right,” said Sam.

“We’ve got to tell the others,” Pietro said.

“We’ve gotta _do_ something,” said Clint. “We’ve been hiding in here long enough, now she’s hurting innocent people… we’ve got to stop her.”

“If we try to face her, she’ll kill us,” said Pietro.

“We’ve got the Avengers,” said Clint. “She’s got herself and four newborn vampires. I think we can take her. We’ve got to. It’s our duty. Especially since it’s our fault she’s in town to wreak havoc in the first place.”

“I don’t want any of you to get hurt because of me.”

“Look, we took out her entire coven on our own before, we can handle this. If we get hurt, we’ll walk it off like we always do. This is on us.”

“But–“

“No buts,” Clint interrupted. “It’s time to get off our asses.”

 

***

 

Most of the day was spent preparing. Tony hacked into the police data base to find out as much information on the victims as possible, in hopes it could lead them to Lesandra’s location. The rest of the team put together an arsenal. It was late afternoon by the time their final preparations were being made and the sun would set in less than two hours, meaning their window for trapping the vampires in their hideout before dark was growing short. 

Pietro sat on the edge of the coffee table, twirling a stake absentmindedly in his hand, waiting. He could pretend he wasn’t nervous for this fight, but the truth was he was terrified, more terrified than he’d been for anything he’d faced since joining the Avengers. There were only three outcomes for this fight, and only one of them had a happy ending. He was no statistician but it was pretty damn obvious the odds were not in his favor. 

“Pietro?”

He looked up to see Wanda standing in front of him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Are you alright?” Wanda asked, perching on the arm of the chair across from him.

“Honestly? Not really,” said Pietro. “I’m scared.”

“I know.”

“Lesandra may only have a few newborn vampires with her, but we don’t know the people she turned. They could be black belts and bodybuilders for all we know.”

“But they’re not the ones you’re afraid of,” said Wanda.

“No, they’re not,” Pietro admitted. “Lesandra’s deadly. I’ve seen her fight. I’ve seen her kill. And chances are that’s what she wants to do to all of us. But… there’s also the possibility that she’ll try to turn at least some of the team.”

Wanda watched him with a frown but said nothing. She could tell there was more he wanted to say. Pietro took a deep breath and went on.

“Wanda… I can’t let that happen to me again. I can’t go back to being like that. If she turns me… I want you to kill me. Put a stake in my heart.”

“Pietro-“

“I mean it. I’d rather be dead than be a monster again.”

“Pietro, you can’t expect me to do that,” said Wanda, her voice trembling. “You can’t ask me to kill you.”

“Then I’ll ask one of the others,” said Pietro. “Someone I know will be able to do it.”

“You really think any of them would be willing to kill you? They all care about you.”

“Willing? Maybe not. But sometimes you have to put that stuff aside…” Pietro paused a moment. “I know it’s too much to ask you, you’re my sister. But I want you to know that if I do get turned and have to be put down, then it’s what I wanted.”

Wanda bit her lip and a tear escaped down her cheek. Pietro sighed sadly and stood up to go hug her. He pulled her close and she buried her face in his shirt, holding him tightly.

“We’re just gonna have to make sure we kill her before she can bite you, okay?” she said.

“Yeah. Okay.”

A few minutes later, the team was assembling to storm the vampires’ hideaway. While the others were distracted with last minute weapons checks, Pietro went over to Natasha and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Can I talk to you a second?” he asked quietly.

“Of course.”

He led her aside, just out of earshot of the rest of the team. 

“Everything okay?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah, I just… I wanted to ask you to do something for me.”

“What?”

“If something… goes wrong during this fight and I get turned again… I want you to put me down,” said Pietro.

Natasha stared at him with an unreadable expression.

“Why me?” she asked.

“Because I know you can do what has to be done,” Pietro replied. “I know you can put aside feelings if you have to.”

“You’re my best friend’s boyfriend,” said Natasha. “That might not be so easy in this case.”

“I trust you,” said Pietro. “I’m asking you to do this.”

Natasha considered him a moment before answering.

“Okay.”


	24. the bite

The team loaded up into the cars. Clint sat with Pietro in the backseat and held his hand. Neither of them spoke or even looked at each other for the entire drive. They parked about a block away from the abandoned warehouse Tony had tracked the vampires to and walked the rest of the way. The sun was beginning to set, turning the sky a bloody orange that, considering the circumstances, felt rather ominous. They reached the warehouse and Clint and Pietro shared a fleeting kiss before fanning out, getting into position for the ambush.

Clint's heart hammered anxiously as he waited for the signal and he couldn’t help hoping that it wouldn’t be loud enough to draw the vampires’ attention. He knew they could hear heartbeats, but he wasn’t sure just how powerful that ability was.

“Alright, team,” said Steve over the comms. “Let’s do this.”

Clint took a deep breath and exhaled sharply, then kicked in the door. He charged inside, ready for action, then froze. There was no one there. He could see the backlit silhouettes of a few of his teammates across the room, all standing frozen in the doorways like him.

“Yeah, guys, I think we got a problem,” he said.

“They knew we were coming,” said Pietro.

“Or we’ve got the wrong warehouse,” said Natasha.

“Unlikely,” Tony said. 

Clint rolled his eyes.

“Everyone be careful,” said Steve. “They could still be here.”

Slowly, Clint crept further inside, keeping eyes and ears peeled. He broke off from the main room and went down a short dark corridor lined with offices. He checked the rooms one by one, but there was no sign that anyone had been there for years. When he reached the last office, he stopped, frowning. There was a window high up on the back wall, but it had been covered with a thick black tarp. 

“They’ve been here, all right,” he announced over the comms. “There’s blacked out windows.”

Clint cast a quick glance over the room, then turned to go back into the corridor. He had barely taken a step when something leapt at him from behind, nearly knocking him to the ground. He stumbled, then caught his balance enough to jab an elbow into the stomach of his attacker. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, he pulled his stake from his belt and went to turn around. But the vampire was too fast and too strong and kept a firm grip on him. Suddenly, there was a hand in his hair and his head was yanked to the side, exposing his neck.

“No,” he grunted.

He struggled harder, his heart beating so fast it was sure to burst from his chest. Then sharp teeth sank into his neck. Clint cried out in pain, but managed to twist away from the vampire just enough to bury his stake in their heart. The vampire vanished in a cloud of dust. 

Clint gasped for breath and started to stagger toward the door, his vision blurred and spinning. A bolt of pain shot through him and he gripped the doorframe. Then his knees gave way.

“Shit… no…”

The pain grew and suddenly his entire body was burning. Fire and ice coursed through him, ripping through his veins, making the world around him go black. He knew pain, but this was agony unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Surely he was screaming, surely someone would hear and come save him. Then suddenly it stopped. 

The world came back into focus and everything seemed sharper, the darkness less dark, the sounds of the warehouse and the city outside more defined. Clint looked down at his still trembling hands. They were ghostly pale, the veins running along the backs standing out more prominent in contrast to the inhuman whiteness. His throat ached and a strange thirst crept up inside him. His heart sank with dread. 

He was a vampire.


	25. drained

 

There had been no further sign of the vampires since Clint’s announcement about the blacked out windows. If he weren’t so paranoid, Pietro would have almost begun to suspect they’d moved on. He climbed up a short flight of stairs and sneaked down the hallway, moving slower than anyone would have believed possible for him. But he had to be careful. He couldn’t risk anything. He finished his sweep of the landing and turned toward the stairs. 

“Hey, Pietro,” said a chillingly familiar voice behind him.

Pietro turned back around. Lesandra stood there, looking a bit the worse for wear, but smirking at him as though she’d already won.

“Been a long time,” she said.

“Not long enough,” said Pietro.

Lesandra chuckled, then gave him a sneering once-over.

“You’re human again, I see. Impressive.”

“I have impressive friends.”

“Yes, you certainly do,” said Lesandra, circling him tauntingly. “The Avengers. Who’d’ve thought. I did have some suspicions about you, but then there are so many powered people out there these days I thought ‘Naw, he can’t be. There’s probably plenty of super speedy guys out there.’ But no. There’s just the one. _Quicksilver_ , the fastest man alive. Though not fast enough to escape a vampire, apparently.”

“You just gonna talk all day, or can I get on to killing you now?” Pietro snapped.

Lesandra laughed.

“You’re not gonna kill me, sweetheart,” she said. “You got this situation completely backward. _I’m_ gonna kill _you_.”

Pietro scoffed.

“Yeah right.”

Lesandra’s smirk vanished and she gave him a cold, challenging glare.

“You doubt me?” she said.

“Damn right.”

“Well, you shouldn’t.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because your filthy little _friends_ killed my family,” Lesandra snarled. “They came into my house and slaughtered all of them. So I’m returning the favor. Starting with you.”

“I’m not gonna make it easy,” said Pietro.

“It’ll be easier than you think. You’re not a vampire anymore, Pietro. You’re a human. Weak and easy to kill. You’re my prey, and you know better than anyone the kind of hunter I am.”

They were face to face now, and Pietro became aware that sometime in her circling, Lesandra had managed to back him into the wall. His heart skipped a beat and he looked down at her, hoping she couldn’t see the fear in his eyes.

“You’re a fool, Pietro,” she hissed. “A weak, pathetic fool. You could’ve been the most feared vampire in the world, faster and more deadly than any history has ever seen. But you threw it all away for your little human lover.”

“I’d rather have Clint’s love than the world’s fear,” said Pietro.

“And that’s why you have to die.”

Lesandra lunged forward, teeth bared. Pietro shouted in pain as her sharp fangs pierced his throat, immediately setting a steady stream of blood flowing. She drank deep and Pietro began to feel dizzy. He tried to push her away, but her grip was too strong and she had already taken enough of his blood to make him fatigued. His head was spinning, his vision blurred. Suddenly his knees buckled and he sank to the floor, Lesandra still diligently draining him. 

“Please,” he said, coughing weakly as his own blood threatened to choke him. “Clint… Wanda… help…”

But he knew they couldn’t hear him, he couldn’t reach his comm and his voice was too weak now to shout. The world around him began to darken and fade away. Then suddenly, all was black.

 

***

 

Clint followed the sounds of fighting and the smell of blood back down the corridor and into the main room of the warehouse. He arrived just in time to see Natasha stake one of the newborns.

“Clint, where the hell have you been?” said Sam. “You’ve been radio-silence for a good ten minutes.”

“I have?” said Clint.

“Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet,” said Wanda.

“No, I’m not, I…. where’s Pietro?” 

“What do you mean you’re not okay?” said Natasha. “What happened?”

“Got bit. Where’s Pietro?”

“You got _bit_?” Sam repeated. 

“You’re a vampire?!” Wanda gasped.

“Yes, I am. Now for the love of all that is holy, where the hell is my boyfriend?” Clint said desperately.

“I dunno, probably with some of the others,” said Natasha.

“No he isn’t,” said a new voice.

Clint whipped around. A pale young woman with red eyes and a trickle of blood trailing down her chin stood at the foot of the stairs, smirking.

“Lesandra,” said Natasha grimly.

“What do you mean? Where is he?” Clint demanded.

He lunged at her, grabbing the front of her jacket and holding his stake to her throat.

“He’s drowning on what’s left of his own blood,” Lesandra said, eyes alight with glee. “You should be glad he’s dead though, Hawkeye. He won’t have to see what’s become of you.”

“You’re a monster,” Clint snarled.

“Guess what?” said Lesandra. “So are you.”

Clint pulled back his hand to strike, not hesitating a moment before plunging the stake into her heart. The smirk didn’t leave her face even as she vanished into dust. Clint let the stake fall to the ground, then bolted up the stairs as fast as he could.

“Clint, wait!” Natasha shouted.

He ignored her and kept running, not stopping until he reached the landing. He froze, a knot of horror and grief twisting in his stomach. Lying against the wall in a crumpled heap was Pietro. His eyes were closed and he was horribly still, a bloody bite wound standing out in vivid scarlet against his pale throat. Clint fell to his knees at Pietro’s side and pulled him into his arms.

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, his eyes stinging with tears. “I can’t face eternity without you.”

Suddenly he paused, listening. There it was again. A heartbeat. Faint, weak, barely holding on. But still beating. Pietro was still alive. Clint stared down at him with wide eyes, a terrible idea coming to him. But it was all he had. He couldn’t let Pietro die, not when there was a way he could save him. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you’ll hate me for this, maybe forever. But I can’t lose you.”

He leaned down and gave Pietro a gentle kiss, feeling the warmth of his lips for what he knew was the last time. Then he shifted Pietro in his arms, tilting his head so the side of his neck was exposed. He took a deep breath to steady himself, but he knew he couldn’t linger. There wasn’t much time. He bent down and sunk his teeth into Pietro’s neck.

He licked his lips as he pulled away, tasting a single drop of Pietro’s blood on his tongue. Clint understood now why Pietro had been so addicted to his blood before. Just that one drop was so perfect, made more intoxicating by their attraction, he was tempted to lean in again and drink. But he fought the urge.

Pietro began to tremble as the first wave of pain washed over him and Clint held him tight. Tears streaked down his face as the convulsions escalated. He knew how much Pietro dreaded becoming a vampire again and he hated himself for what he’d just done. But he couldn’t lose Pietro. Not now. Not with all eternity ahead of him. 

He heard three pairs of footsteps arrive behind him and stop in their tracks, three racing heartbeats. Finally Pietro went still.

“Oh my god,” Wanda gasped. “Clint, what have you done?”

“I’m sorry,” Clint said. “I had to save him. It was the only way.”


	26. colored crimson in my eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "Bloodstream" by Ed Sheeran

Slowly and painfully, Pietro began to resurface from the deep darkness of near-death. He started to hear sounds, distant and muffled at first, gradually growing more defined, and then they were loud, so loud. He flinched, the cacophony of noises assaulting his ears adding to his already existing aches and pains. He was breathing better than he expected considering he’d recently had his throat ripped open, and as he inhaled, he was overwhelmed by a wave of smells that made his head spin. One scent stood out above the rest, sharp and slightly metallic and very familiar.

Finally he opened his eyes. Everything came into focus much quicker than was natural, the world around him sharp, the room less dark than he remembered it being before he blacked out. Clint was bent over him, holding him tight. Tears streaked his too-white cheeks and his eyes were vivid red.

“No,” Pietro gasped, his voice hoarse and cracked.

Suddenly his brain had caught up with the rest of him and all the puzzle pieces fell into place. This couldn’t be happening. 

“Clint-“

“I’m sorry,” said Clint. “I had to save you.”

“You know I’d rather have died. I told you…”

Pietro sat up, wincing as a rush of dizziness hit him. Apparently being drained dry had its after-effects. He glanced away from Clint and noticed Wanda, Natasha, and Sam standing there, watching. 

“I know what you said, Pietro, but I couldn’t-“ Clint began.

“Natasha,” Pietro interrupted.

He stared up at her, pleading. Natasha’s grip tightened around the stake in her hand and she stared back, looking more conflicted than Pietro had ever seen her. Finally she let out a heavy sigh and shook her head.

“I can’t,” she said. “I’m sorry, Pietro. I can’t do it. Especially not with Clint and Wanda here…”

“What’s she talking about?” Clint said. “Nat, what do you mean?”

“I asked her to kill me if I got turned again,” said Pietro.

He turned his gaze to Wanda, desperate now, but she just shook her head as well. 

“Oh god…” Clint said, and though Pietro wasn’t looking he could tell that he was crying again. “I didn’t… I know you said you’d rather die, but… I didn’t think… oh god, Pietro, I’m so sorry…”

“Sam? Natasha?” Steve’s voice suddenly crackled in over the comms. “If any of the rest of you can hear me, I think we finished them off.”

“We hear you,” said Sam.

“Where are you guys?” 

“Upstairs,” Sam replied. “We’ll meet you in the main room in a sec.”

He stepped forward and held out his hand to Pietro, who took it and let Sam help him up. He wobbled a little, gripping Sam’s hand to steady himself.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

“Physically or emotionally?” Pietro said bitterly.

Sam clapped him on the shoulder, then they all went downstairs to where the rest of the team was waiting.

“Jesus, Maximoff,” Bucky said, seeing the wound on his throat. “What happened to you?”

“Lesandra…”

“How are you even alive?” said Tony.

“Me,” said Clint grimly.

The others stared in shock as they realized what he meant.

“Okay, well this is a whole new level of bad,” said Rhodey.

“Yeah, try telling that to Clint,” said Pietro.

He cast one last glare at Clint, then stormed outside. He got into the backseat of one of the cars and slammed the door behind him, then just sat there fuming in silence. Two minutes later, the door opened again and Wanda, Tony, Rhodey, and Natasha piled in. 

“Clint’s in the other car,” said Wanda, sitting down next to him. “He thought you might not want to see him right now.”

“He thought right,” said Pietro. 

“I know it’s not what you wanted, but he did save your life,” Wanda said.

“Damn right it’s not what I wanted. Lesandra killed me. I accepted that. If I wasn’t gonna live and be human, _that’s_ what I wanted. Not this. I didn’t want to be a monster again just so I could carry on living.”

“I know,” said Wanda sadly. “What Clint did was selfish. But at the same time… I can’t help but be glad he did it. I already lost you once before, I couldn’t bear to do that again.”

Pietro sighed heavily and turned away to look out the window. There was nothing he could say to that. Wanda was right, he had already put her through the torment of his death once. The subject was more than a little sensitive. But still, he was supposed to die in that warehouse, he had been seconds away from it. And now because of Clint, he was trapped, hating what he’d become once again.


	27. stuck

 

They got back to the tower and convened in the living room. Pietro lurked in the corner, his arms folded across his chest, glaring over at where Clint sat on the sofa. He looked a bit ashamed of himself, and Pietro would’ve almost felt bad about how he was acting if he weren’t still so angry.

“Y’know, we've still got all these books,” Rhodey pointed out. “You guys don’t have to be pissed at each other for all eternity.”

“Who said I was pissed?” Clint muttered bitterly.

“Shut up, Barton,” said Bucky. “We pulled off a cure once before, we can do it again.”

“Yeah, with my luck there’ll be a little footnote saying ‘this cure only works once, if you’re stupid enough to get bit again, you’re fucked’,” Pietro said.

“Okay, you _definitely_ shut up,” said Bucky.

He picked up the spell book from the top of the stack and opened it to the marked page.

“So, any footnotes?” Wanda asked. “Or is my brother just being bitchy?”

Pietro scoffed irritably.

“Well, there’s nothing about it only working once,” said Bucky. “But there is a warning.”

“What kind of warning?” Sam asked warily.

“The cure returns you to the state you were in when you transformed. So if you were on the brink of death…”

“…You’d be human about two seconds before you up and died,” Sam finished. “Great.”

“Hang on, wasn’t there that one we found early on that could work if the vampire hadn’t fed yet?” Steve asked.

“Cap, you genius,” said Tony, diving for another spell book and flipping through it.

“Yeah, except that ain’t gonna work for me,” said Clint. “Technically, I’ve kinda fed.”

“When the hell did you have time for that?” said Rhodey.

“I said ‘kinda’,” Clint replied. “When I gave Pietro the bite, I… got a little bit of his blood.”

“Dammit, Clint…” said Natasha.

“Hey, I didn’t really have much control over it.”

“That’s okay, the other one should still work for you,” said Steve. “You weren’t dying when you got bit.”

“Well, shit,” said Tony. “This one’s not gonna work either.”

“Ah no,” Bucky groaned. “Same issue?”

“Yup,” said Tony. “Returns you to the state you were in at transformation.”

“So what you’re saying is, I’m stuck,” said Pietro. “I’m stuck like this. It’s permanent this time.”

“Well, if all the cures are like this…”

“And even if they weren’t, you’d have to be willing to go through some nasty shit,” Sam added.

“So yeah, I’m stuck.” Pietro sighed angrily. “Every option I’ve got ends in me dying. Great. This is great.”

He punched the wall next to him, then stormed out. He went to his room, slammed the door, and started to pace. Suddenly the door opened and Natasha stepped inside.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“Oh do we?” Pietro said.

“Yeah.”

“This would be so much simpler if you’d just stake me and get this all over with.”

“No, it really wouldn’t. Now sit the fuck down and listen to me,” said Natasha.

Pietro stared at her a moment before obeying. 

“Do you have any idea how big of an ass you’re being?” Natasha continued.

“A little bit,” said Pietro. “But I think I have the right to be as much of an ass as I want, considering the circumstances.”

“Oh sure, you’ve got a right to be an ass. But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna call you on it. Clint _saved your life._ ”

“I didn't ask him to. Not like this.”

“You were unconscious, you idiot. He made the only decision that made sense to him. It was that or let you die, and he couldn’t do that, not when he had the power to save you,” said Natasha. 

“I _told_ him I’d rather die than become this monster again,” said Pietro.

“Yeah, and there’s part of the problem,” Natasha said. “He doesn’t see you that way. He spent four months trying to convince you that you weren’t a monster. He never cared how much of his blood you took or how many innocent people you killed with the coven. He never viewed you as a monster. But you just kept insisting you were. And now he’s a vampire too. You know what he’s probably thinking right now? He’s thinking you believe he’s a monster. He may not see himself that way, but the fact that you might is a hundred times worse.”

Pietro stared at her, his heart sinking.

“No… I didn’t mean… I don’t…”

“So you don’t think _he’s_ a monster, but you still think you are?”

“He never hurt anyone,” said Pietro. “I did.”

“We’ve _all_ hurt people,” said Natasha. “Are you just naive or do you really hate yourself that much?”

Pietro didn’t reply. He didn’t think he’d be able to speak even if he wanted to. If he tried to say even a single word, the tears he was barely holding back would surely break free.

“He loves you, Pietro,” Natasha said, gentler now. “More than I’ve ever seen him love anyone. He’d just become a vampire, he was scared, and suddenly he was on the brink of losing you forever. What choice would you have made if your places were switched?”

Pietro bit his lip, unable to keep himself from crying any longer. 

“You didn’t see what he was like after you left. He lost it, ran out into the rain after you. Passed out in the middle of the street because he didn’t have any strength left. Then he locked himself in his room for days. I’d hate to see what he would be like if he had to live forever with you dead.”

Natasha sat down next to him.

“I know this is hard, that this isn’t what you wanted. But… try to find it in your heart to forgive him. I know you love him and I know it hurts. But even if it takes half a century… at least try. He was more willing to save you and have you hate him forever than let you die.”

She took his hand and gave it a squeeze, then stood up and went to leave.

“I’d have saved him,” Pietro said suddenly.

Natasha turned to look at him, her hand on the doorknob.

“If it had been the other way around. I’d have saved him too.”


	28. love eternal

 Pietro sat there alone for several minutes, trying to figure out what to say to Clint. Natasha was right, he’d been an ass. He had to apologize. But it was hard. He felt bad for the way he’d acted, but the hurt was still so close, the bitterness over having this condition forced upon him again by the man he loved was still too new. He knew that would fade with time, that eventually he’d fully forgive Clint. But for now… all he really could do was apologize.

He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands over his face, wiping away the tears tracks that lined his cheeks. Then he stood up and went back out to the living room. The rest of the team were still there, bent over the spell books, but there was no sign of Clint. Wanda looked up when he came into the room.

“Hey,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

Pietro shrugged.

“Where’s Clint?” he asked.

“Out on the balcony,” Wanda replied.

Pietro left without another word. When he reached the glass door to the balcony, he hesitated, staring out at Clint’s shadowy silhouette. Then he braced himself and stepped outside. Clint didn’t turn at the sound of the door.

“Hi,” said Pietro, coming to stand next to him.

“Hi,” Clint echoed, still not looking at him.

There was a tense silence, then Pietro spoke again.

“I just wanted to say… I’m sorry for how I acted before. I was an ungrateful jackass. You saved my life. I shouldn’t punish you for that.”

“But it’s not what you wanted,” said Clint. He sounded profoundly sad. “Now you’re stuck as a vampire again, forever this time. And it’s my fault. ‘Cause I was too selfish to let you go when that was what you really wanted.”

“I didn’t want to die,” said Pietro. “I’m glad you saved me. I mean, I’m not thrilled about how you did it, but… you didn’t really have a choice. If you’d waited until you could save me another way, I wouldn’t have made it.”

“But you specifically told me you’d rather die than be a vampire again,” Clint argued. “And I ignored that. I threw away what by all means were your final wishes. And now you’re trapped. You have every right to hate me forever.”

“I mean, I’m not saying I was wrong to be pissed,” said Pietro. “You’re right, I am fully justified. But I could never hate you. And definitely not forever.”

Clint finally looked at him, tears in his eyes and a small, sad smile on his lips.

“Really?” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Well… that’s good. ‘Cause forever’s looking a hell of a lot more literal for the two of us now.”

“For me, maybe,” said Pietro. “But you’re not stuck. You weren’t dying when you turned, you can still be cured.”

“I don’t wanna be cured,” Clint said.

Pietro stared at him.

“You _want_ to be a vampire?” he said.

“If this is permanent for you, then it’s gonna be for me too,” said Clint. “I don’t want a cure, not if you can’t have one.”

“You mean… you’d stay with me?” said Pietro softly, in almost disbelieving awe. 

“Forever and ever, baby,” said Clint. “Quite literally.”

“So I wouldn’t have to watch you grow old and die? I won’t be alone?”

“Never.”

A lump formed in Pietro’s throat and his bottom lip quivered. Then Clint pulled him in and stilled it with a kiss. At last they broke apart, but neither moved very far, still hovering in each others’ space, breathing each others’ air.

“What happens now?” Pietro murmured.

“No idea.”

“I suppose we should probably tell the others to stop researching.”

“They’re still doing that? That’s what I call dedication…”

Pietro smiled, resting his forehead against Clint’s. 

“Or we could always just let them keep at it and stay out here for a while,” he suggested.

Clint chuckled and ran his fingers through Pietro’s hair.

“I like that idea.”


	29. the last avengers

 

It was close to midnight when Pietro and Clint finally went back inside. The rest of the team were still in the living room reading spell books, which both amused and touched Pietro. As the two of them entered the room, a couple of the others glanced up to acknowledge them.

“I take it you two kissed and made up,” said Tony.

“Something like that,” Clint said.

Pietro smirked.

“I’m surprised you guys are still going at this,” Clint went on. 

“Well we’ve still got a few leftover ingredients from the cure we used on Pietro the first time, so we can get the rest and use that one on you,” said Steve. 

“We’ve also been trying to find some other cure that won’t end up with Pietro dead, but no luck so far,” Sam added.

“Don’t bother,” said Pietro.

The others all stared at him.

“You’re _okay_ with being a vampire now?” said Natasha.

“Well, I mean, it’s not the way I’d have liked my life to go. But it won’t be so bad.”

Pietro smiled at Clint and took his hand.

“Honestly, you might as well just put all those books in storage,” Clint said. “I’m not gonna need ‘em.”

“Hang on, am I getting this right?” said Rhodey. “You’re both just totally cool with being vampires all of a sudden?”

“There’s no way any of those cures are gonna work for me,” said Pietro. “And honestly, I really don’t want to be dead. I can learn to live with this. Properly this time.”

“And I’m gonna stay by his side,” said Clint. “For better or worse. ’Til the end of time too, it looks like.”

“Hang on, did you two, like… get engaged or something out there while the rest of us were in here slaving away?” said Tony. “‘Cause that’s kinda what this sounds like.”

“What? Oh god, no!” said Clint. “I mean, not that I wouldn’t mind marrying you someday,” he added quickly.

“Love, you just told me you’d stay by my side for all eternity, I’m not exactly worried about your commitment,” said Pietro.

“You two are idiots. Big, sappy idiots,” said Bucky. “Just try and make sure you get married before we all grow old and die, okay?”

Pietro grinned.

“I think we can manage that.”

 

***

 

A few surprisingly uneventful weeks went by. Pietro had readapted easily to being a vampire again, but more impressive was how quickly Clint had adjusted. Perhaps it was because of helping Pietro the first time, he already knew all the quirks and pitfalls of a new vampire and how to deal with them. Maybe he hadn’t actually adjusted quite as much as he let on. Or maybe he was just meant for this. Pietro wasn’t sure how much he believed in destiny, but sometimes this new lifestyle came so naturally to Clint that it really did seem like this was what he’d been building up to all along.

They had been living off of blood packets from the infirmary supplies and had been mostly cooped up indoors. They went out at night sometimes, but Pietro was more than a little paranoid that he would revert back to the predatory instincts he’d learned in the coven if he spent too much time around different humans. He trusted himself with the Avengers – he was accustomed to the scents of their blood – but he was afraid of what he might do around the blood of a stranger. Clint wasn’t nearly as paranoid as Pietro, but the thought of losing control and hurting someone made him nervous, so they agreed to limit their excursions.

This of course led to both of them getting increasingly stir-crazy. They managed to entertain themselves well enough while stuck in the Tower (mostly they had a lot of sex), but neither of them were good at staying put for long and the fact that they couldn’t sleep away some of the long daytime hours didn’t help. 

“We _need_ to figure out a better way to spend eternity,” said Pietro one afternoon.

It was a beautiful day, so he and Clint had thrown open all the living room windows so they could enjoy the fresh air. They were now cuddling in the blanket fort they had built to shield them from the sunlight now streaming through the open windows, watching old _Star Trek_ episodes on Netflix. 

“I might actually have a solution for that,” Tony said.

He handed them each a mug of blood, then sat down in the entrance of the fort. Clint hit pause on his computer.

“Really? What is it?” he asked.

“Well, there’s this big compound upstate that belongs to Stark Industries,” Tony explained. “It hasn’t really been used in ages, but I’ve been having some work done on it for the last… I dunno, half year, maybe. Turning it into an Avengers facility. Sort of an alternate headquarters to the Tower, so we don’t have to spend all our time in the city if we don’t want.”

“And what’s that got to do with us?” Pietro said.

“Well, it’s out in the woods really. Town isn’t too far away so it’s not totally cut off, but it’s out of the way. There’s lots of space, a forest full of animals you guys could hunt if you want, not to mention the gym and training facilities are infinitely superior to the ones here in the Tower.”

“Are you saying Clint and I could move there?” 

“Yeah,” said Tony. “It’s ready. Construction finished last week. I was gonna tell the rest of the team about it tonight, open it up as an option if anyone was interested in living there. But I thought you two might like to hear about it first. It’s been on my mind for a while now, actually. So… what do you think?”

Pietro turned to Clint and could tell right away that they were thinking the same thing.

“It sounds amazing, Stark,” said Clint. “Thank you.”

“Seriously, thanks,” Pietro added.

Tony smiled almost bashfully.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, standing up. “I’ll let you guys get back to your show.”

 

Four days later, Pietro and Clint moved into the compound. Wanda would be joining them within a week, once she returned from a mission in Belarus, and the rest of the team would be in and out periodically. But for now, they had the entire place to themselves. The grounds were beautiful and the building itself was spacious and had all the high-tech Stark luxuries they had gotten accustomed to in Avengers Tower. 

“This place is amazing,” said Clint as they looked around. “If I’m ever rude to Stark again-“

“I’ll know you’ve gone back to normal,” Pietro finished with a smirk. 

Clint rolled his eyes and laughed. 

“So…” Pietro went on. “We’ve got the compound to ourselves for a few days. Wanna break in the place by seeing how many rooms we can fuck in before Wanda gets here?”

“Pietro,” said Clint. “It would be my genuine pleasure.”

 

***

 

The compound turned out to be the perfect place for them. They could go outside even in the daytime, provided it was cloudy enough, and the forest surrounding the headquarters was teeming with wildlife for them to hunt. 

Soon, they started joining the team on missions again, strictly night missions and places with very little sunshine. Every once in a while, they’d have to be left behind as the others went somewhere sunny or tropic. Pietro and Clint both missed the sun and all the beautiful places it kept them from visiting, but Wanda always brought them back pictures and postcards. It couldn’t replace the real thing, of course, but the gesture was appreciated and Wanda was a good photographer.

Over time, the rest of the Avengers moved into the compound permanently. Tony was the least constant presence, often flitting between New York City and his house in Malibu, but as the years went on, he started spending more and more time at the compound. The others would sometimes disappear for a while, either to spend some time at the Tower or for other reasons that Pietro never really bothered asking. 

It was only three years before Pietro and Clint upheld their promise to get married before the other Avengers got old and died. It was a small ceremony; only the Avengers attended, plus a new recruit named Kate, who Clint had rather a soft spot for. Everyone who could got very drunk at the reception, then continued partying long after waving the newlyweds off on their honeymoon.

Time went by. A few new people joined the team. Bruce retired. Natasha left for a while. Clint said she’d gone to atone for the crimes of her past. She was quieter than usual when she came back.

Tony was the first of the team to die. Nearly ten years had gone by and even with the suit he couldn’t move as fast as he used to. He got shot down in a fight over Damascus. Pietro and Clint weren’t there. They didn’t find out until the team got home with Tony’s body under a sheet. Pietro had known it would hit him hard when this day came, but he didn’t expect it to be this bad.

Rhodey left after Tony died. He moved to D.C. and became a high ranking official at the Pentagon. It was another three months before he picked up the phone to call the rest of the team.

Steve and Bucky were the next to die. They went down together in a blaze of glory, Butch and Sundance style, the kind of suicidal martyrdom everyone expected from them. It was lucky, Pietro couldn’t help thinking, that they had died side by side. It was hard enough losing them as it was. He didn’t think he could have stood to watch if one had outlived the other.

With Steve gone, Sam took up the mantle of Captain America. Everyone agreed that if someone else were to carry the shield, it should be him.

More people joined the team, filling in the gaping holes left by death and retirement. Pietro and Clint took on their training, meaning Sam could lead the more seasoned Avengers on missions without having to worry about the new recruits. They all seemed so young, and Pietro had to remind himself that he still looked as young as a lot of them. He didn’t feel that young.

Clint didn’t talk for a week when Natasha died. It had just been the two of them on a night mission, like the old days. It could have been avoided. But there was a miscalculation and neither of them saw the bullet coming. It was cruel that the greatest spy the world would ever know had fallen in what amounted to a freak accident.

They heard from Bruce for the first time in years only to learn that he was sick and wanted to see his old friends again before he died. It was strange seeing him again. The last time they had all been face to face was at Tony’s funeral. Bruce had still been young then, starting to go grey, but mostly the same as he had been when he left the team. Now he was an old man, white haired and pale. Pietro was more aware of his immortality than ever. 

Rhodey came up from D.C. for the weekend, Thor set aside his kingly duties to visit Earth, and the remaining members of the original Avengers sat together for what they knew would be the last time. They reminisced on old times, when all of them were younger and none of them had died. They laughed and drank and it would have all felt so normal were it not for the grey hairs and the four empty seats that even after all those years, none of them could bear to fill. 

Bruce died four days later.

Sam was shot down five months after that in a fight outside Berlin. More people attended his funeral than Pietro thought possible. None of the remaining Avengers could bear to take up the burden of Captain America now. The shoes of Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson were too big to fill. Clint mounted the shield behind glass in the Avengers compound.

Three years later, it was announced that Attorney General James Rhodes had died peacefully in his sleep. Pietro, Clint, and Wanda flew down to D.C. for the funeral. As they sat in the church, listening to the eulogy, Pietro couldn’t stop staring at his sister. Her dark hair was streaked with grey and Pietro was suddenly afraid that one day she simply wouldn’t wake up, just like Rhodey. 

Pietro was spared that pain for several more years. Wanda retired from field work, but stayed with the Avengers in a more diplomatic position – negotiating with foreign governments when their country was in danger, finding and talking to potential recruits, research and intelligence work. Pietro couldn’t deny that he was pleased to have her out of the direct line of fire. Not that her job didn’t still have risks, especially when it came to frightened young powered people who had yet to control their abilities. But she wasn’t joining the team on missions anymore, so Pietro could rest easier.

Or so he thought. Thirteen years since they lost Rhodey and six years since her retirement, Wanda went to Portugal to warn their leaders of a potential alien attack on their capitol and propose sending in the Avengers. The aliens descended on the city during the meeting, destroying the capitol building and killing everyone inside. Including Wanda. 

Pietro had always known this day would come, but nothing could have prepared him for it. After the funeral, he disappeared into the woods surrounding the base for a week. Clint didn’t come looking for him. He knew better. When Pietro returned to the compound, he still barely spoke, and all the younger Avengers kept their distance. Only Clint stayed by his side.

“I’m lucky I have you,” said Pietro. “I don’t know how I could have handled this alone.”

“I made a promise, remember?” Clint said. “I vowed to stay with you even when everyone else we love is gone. Well… we’re the last ones now. We’re the last of the original Avengers. The only ones who remember how this story started. We’ll be there when the Avengers end for good. Probably when the world ends, too.”

Pietro smiled a little.

“Just you and me, holding hands at the end of the world. I like that.”

Clint leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Me too, kid. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for sticking through this, even when i took forever to update! this fic was a pleasure to write, and i hope you all enjoyed it and that i managed to do the ending justice. thanks again! <3


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